


A Seasonal Debarkle

by DropsOfAutumn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Childhood Friends, Dog Dad Shiro, Dog Giving birth (non-explicit), Dog trainer Keith, Dog training, Dogs, Fluff, Four Seasons, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Getting Together, M/M, Oh No Mistletoe, Pining Shiro (Voltron), Sheithmark 2021, Slow Burn, matchmaker kosmo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 47,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29085108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DropsOfAutumn/pseuds/DropsOfAutumn
Summary: When Shiro moves back into his hometown after his grandfather dies, he's searching for a dog. Little does he know that he does not only find a four-legged companion when he visits the Marmora Dog Shelter - but also true love in the form of his childhood crush Keith.Good thing their dogs are here to help them realize their feelings.***Or: The one in which Shiro moves back into his hometown and falls in love with dogs and Keith
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 111
Collections: Sheithmark 2021





	1. Spring

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise, here's my fic for the Sheithmark event <3  
> This work is my precious baby and I'm laughing at myself for the enormously high word-count. I adopted a dog in April '20 and all of my love for dogs bled into this fic.
> 
> I was inspired by the hallmark movie "Love at first bark", but I decided to add "Childhood Friends" to the plot.  
> Please give my amazing artist [AnonAzure](https://twitter.com/anonazure) some love, the art is featured in the fourth chapter.
> 
> Thank you so much to [Sunday](https://twitter.com/SundaySeternal) And [LaLionne/otayuriistheliteralbest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/) for helping me fight this monster. I'm so grateful for your help, you truly are the ones who made this fic possible!
> 
> Also thank you to [Nina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/federstaub/) for helping me with all the dog content!
> 
> Heads up: There will be a scene in the third chapter where a dog gives birth. There are no explicit descriptions, but if you want to skip over the scene, I'll add an annotation on which parts you should skip in the third chapter.  
> Hope you'll have fun!

You see, Shiro normally likes spring. 

Because spring means higher temperatures. Spring means nature awakens from hibernation, tinting grey and brownish landscapes in hues of green and pastels. Spring also means more hours of sunlight and not sitting in the dark for half the day. In a normal year, Shiro loves every aspect of spring.

But this spring has turned his whole world upside-down. 

This spring hits Shiro’s life with the force of a high-speed train crashing into a mountain without enough time to pull the emergency brake.  
  
This spring, Shiro finds himself without his job, without his tiny apartment in a gigantic anonymous city, without his (now ex-)boyfriend and without his grandparents.

Instead, this spring, Shiro finds himself _here_ .   
  
Standing in front of a building he thought he would never see again when he’d packed his bags to leave for college.   
  
Unlike Shiro, the building looks almost exactly the way it did when he left. A wooden dream of a cottage, made of big logs and topped by a red tiled roof. A spacious garden surrounds the building, a green metal fence separating Shiro from the premises. This house had been like a safe haven in his youth, like a tiny wooden castle where time seemed to stop and reality couldn’t get to him.   
  
Right here at the outskirts of the tiny place on Earth that Shiro calls his hometown.   
  
Ironically enough, even this building can’t hide the fact that it’s been ten years since Shiro last set foot into the town.   
  
Time shows in the dust collecting in the corners of the window frame. It shows in the fence, littered in scratches, the color coming off at several spots, rusty metal shining through the dark green. Shiro remembers how the fence has once been shiny after they had spent a whole weekend painting it green just to earn a few extra bucks.

Time also shows in the big wooden sign hanging over the door, loopy purple letters forming the words _‘Marmora Dog Shelter’_ .   
  
Nearly as Shiro remembers. The paint has faded, the once vibrant color now dull and scratched. The most obvious difference though, as Shiro notices, is the addition of another board, sloppily nailed onto the original sign, the same purple brushstroke and similar loopy letters, reading _‘ & Dog Training’ _ .   
  
It brings a smile to Shiro’s lips.   
  
He vividly remembers Krolia’s stern face, explaining how she’ll never, ever want to turn the rescue into a dog obedience school, _thank you very much_ , while shovelling another portion of scrambled eggs onto his plate.   
  
It’s a good memory.   
  
The ones about the rescue always are.   
They usually involve a lot of dogs, a lot of good food and a lot of laughter. 

And the distinct voice of a hothead of a boy, a few years younger than him, with fire in his eyes and a lion in his heart, wild and free. 

Shiro shifts from one foot to another as the memories hit him. As much as he tried to push the thoughts away over the past years, the Marmora Dog Shelter was and will always be linked to _him_.

To Keith. 

A sigh escapes Shiro’s lips as his thoughts drift to the image of young Keith. A welcome sight, one that’s accompanied Shiro for the better part of a decade.   
  
Long strands of black hair tousled by wind and his temper.   
  
Deep purple eyes, big and curious, full of awe whenever Shiro told him about his plans to see the stars one day.   
  
The piercing laugh in Shiro’s ears as they rode Shiro’s bike down the steepest hill in town, the feeling of Keith’s arms pressed around his waist, begging Shiro to hit the brakes. Ending with both of them laughing and rolling in the grass at the foot of the hill, breathless and with wide eyes, feeling every atom in their bodies come alive. 

The red around Keith’s cheeks as they sat together, watching the night sky from Shiro’s treehouse, huddled in thick blankets and sipping cocoa because both did not like the taste of beer. The way Keith stuttered around his words until he finally confessed that he did not like girls as he thought he was supposed to. The way Shiro smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder and offering to help him pick up guys.  
  
But that was ten years ago. 

And today he’s here. In front of the dog shelter run by Keith’s mom.

Fate is a wicked thing.

He must look ridiculous, Shiro thinks, a full-grown man standing in front of a fence for twenty minutes straight, hands shoved in his pockets and his foot kicking a pebble back and forth. Looking for any excuse not to enter the building. Not to face Krolia.

Not to face the minuscule chance to meet Keith.  
  
He can’t be here, Shiro tells himself, for the fifth time since leaving his house that day.

They both had big plans after high school. Leaving town and never coming back was high on both their lists. And while Shiro feels the disappointment tug heavily at his heart, he’s sure Keith is living his best life in some college dorm on the other side of the country. 

Because there’s no way Keith is still stuck in the middle of nowhere when all they both ever wanted was to see the world and make it into space.

‘Get a grip, Shiro,’ he tells himself for the third time since his arrival. It’s not like he planned on awkwardly standing twenty minutes in front of the Marmora Dog Shelter, discussing with himself if he really, _really_ wants to do this.

“You got this,” Shiro tells himself, again, inhaling deeply and finally stepping towards the cottage.

The first step is the hardest, Shiro finds. 

Step two and three are easier already. And step four and five bring him directly to the iron gate, the same old lattice iron door with the crooked handle. 

It doesn’t surprise Shiro at all when, after all these years, the door still has no lock.   
  
It squeaks when Shiro opens it to enter the garden. There are no dogs running around and he hears no barking. In the distance, Shiro can make out the sound of paws moving hastily. It seemed to come from the big shed in the back of the yard, where all the dogs are held.   
  
As much as she loved her dogs, Krolia always had a strict “No dogs in the house” policy – except for Trixy the toy poodle, her beloved dog lady who had been half-blind when Shiro had met her the first time. Instead, the rescue dogs were kept in a shed. Well, at least they called it a shed - even though it’s so big it could almost be called a house on its own, with enough space for two rooms full of kennels. Two to three times a day, Krolia would open the kennel and let the dogs play outside. 

Krolia had always loved dogs, Keith had told him. Big, fluffy dogs with wolfish features. And the shed in the back of their garden proved perfect to house a few stray dogs abandoned by town folks, dropped at the nearby motorway by strangers from two cities over, or puppies they found in the woods. Krolia’s heart had been too soft to leave the poor dogs to themselves, so they always had a couple of dogs around their house while Keith grew up.

Twenty years ago, after her husband, a firefighter Shiro never had the honor of meeting, had died in fire, Krolia had looked for something to do to distract herself from grieving – And turned the shed into a temporary home for about twenty dogs, finally opening _‘Marmora Dog Shelter’._

To Shiro, walking down the path that leads to the house feels so familiar. It’s barely more than old planks in the mud and he takes the two steps to the porch with a little too much enthusiasm, jumping onto the front porch. It nearly makes him feel like he’s twelve again, running from school to knock on the door and ask if Keith can come out to play today.

Just that Shiro’s not twelve anymore. And still, he can hear his blood pumping in his ears.

Too late Shiro realizes he’s put too much force into his jump. 

He manages to land on his feet, but stumbles forwards - right when the door opens in front of him. 

The only thing Shiro hears is a surprised yell. He has barely enough time to blink before he finds himself falling, his knees colliding on the floor. He braces himself for the imminent moment of his head colliding with the floor. 

But it never comes.  
  
Instead, his cheek is cushioned on something soft. From the corner of his eyes, he recognizes a red-and-black flannel pattern. And a deep voice which most likely does not belong to the porch mumbles into his hair, “What the hell?” 

Yes, definitely not the wooden planks talking. 

The second he realizes he’s pinned an actual person to the ground, Shiro shifts his weight back, bracing himself on his hands. 

Just to see a very familiar face lying underneath him, black strands of hair framed by Shiro’s hands.

“Keith?” he says, breathless. 

Shiro would recognize this face everywhere. Sharp features, high cheekbones and those _eyes_. Deep purple and mysterious, a beautiful sight that’s been haunting his dreams, looking up at him wide open.

It’s like Keith has not changed at all. 

And yet he has. The deep red slash on Keith’s cheek is new and there are faint lines forming around his lips and under his eyes, dark circles that hadn’t been there ten years ago.   
  
“Shiro, is that you?” Keith says and something in Shiro’s chest drops at the familiar sound of the voice he’s been missing for so many years.   
  
“Yeah, it’s... wow, Keith, what are you doing here?” Shiro answers with the first thing that comes to his mind.   
  
“I could ask you the same,” Keith answers. Shiro can see Keith’s features soften into a smile. And wow, it’s been ten years, but the smile makes Shiro’s knees weak.   
  
“Wow, Keith, you’ve…” Shiro curses his brain for short-circuiting, but apparently, that’s all his mouth can produce.

“It’s really you. It’s...”   
  
“Yeah. It’s…been a while.”

Shiro must sound ridiculous, stammering his words like this. But it’s Keith, here, underneath him.

Oh wait, it’s Keith. Underneath him.

Once the realization hits him, Shiro jumps backwards, offering Keith his metal hand to pull him up in the movement. His pull is a bit too forceful, sending Keith right against his chest. Shiro can feel firm hands press against his chest. 

“Oh, you--you’ve changed quite a bit,” Keith says, averting his eyes. There’s a tint of pink around his nose and Shiro is sure he must be imagining it. 

Keith is still a head shorter than Shiro, but his shoulders look broad, proud, clad in red-and-black flannel and a black undershirt. It hugs him perfectly.   
  
“Oh yeah, I know, it’s the hair. Premature greying is apparently a thing,” Shiro explains, rolling his eyes. He’s not yet thirty and yet he’s heard the silver fox joke one too many times already. But after the accident that had caused him to lose his parents and his arm when he was fifteen, learning to live with his metal prosthesis, stressful months at college and a job that had him working to the bone, Shiro tried wearing his white floof with pride. It belongs to him now. K

eith rolls his eyes before letting one of his hands wander to Shiro’s arms, squeezing Shiro’s biceps lightly. “I meant this. You’ve… grown quite a bit.”

“Yeah, your mother will be proud, I ate all my veggies.” Keith looks up at him and something tugs at Shiro’s chest. Something warm and bright, making his skin tingle like it hasn’t for years. And it’s definitely not caused by the feeling of Keith’s hands wrapped around Shiro’s bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

Definitely not. 

Truth is, Shiro had been working out the past months, trying to fill the void in his mind with endorphins and something to do. In the past, a regular workout routine had always helped him keep in shape while he was getting used to his prosthesis, but over the past months, he might have been overdoing it a little too much. He’s noticed all his shirts stretching over his chest by now. And there has been at least one humiliating instance when the button of his dress shirt had burst open from the sheer amount of muscles working underneath the fabric.   
  
“Yeah, I see that.” There’s something along the lines of a smile on Keith’s lips. Shy, reluctant. It vanishes just as fast as it appeared when Keith takes a step backwards, his hands still wrapped around Shiro’s arm. “So, what brings you back into this shithole? Thought at least one of us had made it out for good.” 

Shiro gulps.

“Now Grandpa’s gone, someone has to take care of the house,” he answers, the words leaving a bitter taste on his lips. He always knew his grandfather would not live for eternity. But getting the call about his passing was still a bolt to his heart. 

“I also needed a change of scenery,” Shiro adds to end on a lighter note as soon as he sees Keith’s face turn into a frown. 

If anything, Keith’s hands press against Shiro’s arms, firmer this time. The playfulness is gone from his touch and his voice. “Shiro. I’m sorry about your grandpa.”  
  
“It’s... it’s okay. He was an old man who lived a fulfilled life. A part of me always knew that this was coming. It’s always too soon,” Shiro explains. 

Keith looks up to him, letting his fingers trail over Shiro’s biceps again. He’s never been bothered by the metal of his prosthesis. Quite the opposite – when people in high school started to make fun of Shiro’s new arm, Keith had become angry at them, telling Shiro how cool he was, just like a robot from his favorite movie. Shiro still remembers how welcome Keith’s words were back then.

It’s also Keith’s words now that pull him from his memories. “I went to visit him each week to help him with his groceries,” Keith says. “The past weeks he’d been quieter. Like he felt it was his time. Told me he misses your grandma.”   
  
The thought of Keith taking care of his grandfather feels like a bandaid on Shiro’s hurt heart. His grandfather had always liked Keith, treating him like a second grandson. It was only fitting for Keith and him to stay close while Shiro was away. 

“Thank you for being with him when I couldn’t.”   
  
Shiro hopes his voice manages to convey how grateful he is. It’s a relief to hear that his grandfather hadn’t been alone for the past weeks and months. 

“He always talked about you. He loved you a lot.” As Keith speaks, his thumbs draw slow circles where they are resting against Shiro’s arm. 

“Thank you, Keith.”

As he smiles at Keith, his hands find Keith’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. Keith returns the smile, not saying anything. They might be standing like this for seconds or for minutes. Shiro does not know. Because he’s too busy getting lost in Keith’s eyes. Have they always been so deep and beautiful? 

Keith clearing his throat pulls Shiro out of his thoughts.  
  


“So, you’re looking for Mom? She’s out of town, but I can call her. She’ll drop everything to come back if I tell her you’re here.” He takes a step back, drawing his hands back and pushing them into his pockets.  
  
“Actually, I was looking for a dog,” Shiro explains, already missing Keith’s hands on his body.   
  
A sly grin sneaks on Keith’s face. “A dog? Well, good thing you’re here. We might have some of those,” he says.   
  
Shiro nudges Keith with his elbow and it comes to him as easy as breathing. Something about being with Keith feels so natural. And definitely not like they haven’t spoken a word for ten years. 

“You know I love dogs. Also, the house is big and I’m alone, so some company would be nice.”

  
“Okay, follow me.” Keith turns on the spot, motioning Shiro to follow him.   
  
As Keith walks in front of him, Shiro’s eyes fall to the casual sway of Keith’s hips. He remembers Keith as a scrawny boy, fresh out of puberty, with legs so long he stumbled over them, and his hair unkempt and too long in the back, always falling into his face.   
  
Not that it was bad, no, the opposite.

Keith has always been terribly pretty. With sharp features and a determined sparkle in his eyes. A shoulder to cry on and always up for mischief. But Keith had also been terribly sixteen and Shiro’s heart aimed for the stars after high school.   
  
But that was ten years ago and this Keith right here grew into his legs and his shoulders, his steps self-assured and his whole demeanor natural, confident. His hair is still long – Shiro only notices the tiny ponytail at the back of his head now that Keith walks in front of him. There are a few strands loose, falling into Keith’s face. And it looks good. Great even. They frame his sharp cheekbones and his purple eyes just perfectly. 

As they make their way around the cottage to the back of the yard, Keith tells Shiro bits and pieces about his mother, about the town, about some of the dogs they currently shelter. But it’s hard to concentrate on Keith’s words when the sway of Keith’s hips is alluring. When the view of Keith’s backside is definitely not bad. When Keith’s ass looks very pretty in skin-tight jeans.

And Shiro has to shake his head to get rid of thoughts sneaking into his mind. As much as Keith has grown into the handsome man Shiro had always known he would become, he’s not here to flirt with his former best friend.   
  
‘Get your act together,’ he thinks to himself, for the umpteenth time this day. ‘You haven’t talked to him in ten years. And a guy like him is definitely taken.’   
  
“Shiro?” As he looks up, Shiro notices that Keith’s turned around, looking at him expectantly. 

Shiro’s hand flies to his head, scratching his hair. “Sorry? Come again?”   
  
“I asked if you had any thoughts on which type of dog you’d like. Pocket-sized? Medium? Or a big one? Lots of fur? No fur? There’s a whole range!” Keith’s arms fly to his sides, emphasizing the variety. It brings a smile to Shiro’s face.

“Something big preferably, with lots of energy. I don’t mind daily activities, I have to keep in shape because of this thing here anyway.” He lifts his metal hand. “So if the dog can join me on my runs, that’d be perfect.”  
  
“Okay, sounds like a challenge. We have a lot of small breeds and a lot of old dogs. Believe me, they’ll only tilt their head at you if you want them to run with you.” Keith pauses when they stop in front of the shelter. “Also would you be willing to spend some time training them?”   
  
Shiro only notices his eyes have wandered back to Keith’s backside when Keith’s hand finds his back pocket, getting out a ring of keys. “There are only a few who are well-trained. If you’re looking for a dog that doesn’t need a lot of training, that definitely brings us down to a few.”   
  
“Oh. I mean I don’t have a lot of experience other than watching your Mom handle twenty dogs at once, but I’d be willing to do a lot of training.” Keith nods approvingly as Shiro explains.   
  
“It’s good that you already have an idea,” Keith says as he unlocks the door to the dog house. “You won’t believe how many people come here and expect us to just hand them a perfectly trained puppy, preferably a pure-breed.”   
  
It’s a familiar sight to Shiro, the long aisle with kennels to both sides, separated by iron panels, each kennel big enough for a knee-high dog to move around in freely. Most compartments are equipped with a blanket or a dog bed, toys and plushies (some more intact than others), and a water dish. There’s a lot of running around and at least two dogs are barking loudly, jumping up the bars to welcome Shiro.   
  
Shiro bends down to one of the barking dogs, a West Highland Terrier whose white fur is covering both eyes. “I don’t really mind the breed. It just has to click,” Shiro explains as he pokes a finger through a whole in the iron panel. The dog licks his finger immediately, tail wagging cheerfully. It’s a very cute sight. 

“Don’t be fooled by her cuteness, that old lady is very lazy. She hates walking more than a mile a day,” Keith explains, waving his hand. “She loves people and getting spoiled, though.”

“Very relatable,” Shiro laughs as he straightens himself. 

As they make their way down the hallway, Shiro spots a huge variety of dogs. There are some very tiny ones who bark very loudly. There are also very bony ones with very thin fur. In one kennel, he spots an English bulldog with a very long drop of spit hanging from its mouth. 

The dog looks about the same size as the Terrier lady he’s spotted before – but three times her weight in muscles and treats. The past owner must have meant well with the dog.

Keith stops his steps when Shiro squats down to offer his hand to the bulldog. His gesture causes the dog to sit up and run into Shiro’s direction, making the iron door rattle as he jumps against it. Forty pounds of dog is quite something, Shiro notices, before the very wet tongue of the dog licks against his fingers through the iron panel.   
  
“Freddy is a darling, he loves kids and food,” Keith explains. “Though he’s the very opposite of a guard dog. I’m afraid he would demand belly rubs from any intruder before going back to sleep.”

Shiro laughs. “I can totally see that.” 

As he stands up again to follow Keith, his eyes wandering over two Jack Russel Terriers in one kennel. They seem young and rather cute, very cheerful as they play with each other’s tails. But Shiro’s never trained his own dog before, and starting with two dogs might be a bit too much. 

Sure, years of helping Krolia with the shelter dogs helped a bit, but Shiro is not confident in teaching a dog every command and trick on his own. Before seeing the newly added plank to the shelter sign, Shiro had planned to make the most of YouTube tutorials and blogs. But maybe he could ask Krolia to help him train his dog?   
  
“I saw your Mom finally decided to go into the dog training business?” As he speaks, Shiro notices Keith abruptly coming to a halt. There’s a jolt going through his whole body before Keith turns around, his eyes wide and… caught?   
  
“Yeah, right, about that…,” he starts, but never finishes his sentence. Because suddenly there’s a huge shadow in the corner of Shiro’s eyes. The next second, he only hears a happy bark – and Keith lands on the floor, a big and fuzzy creature that looks like something in between a wolf and a dog stands over him, licking his face and wagging his voluminous tail. 

“Oh, hey Kosmo!” There’s disgust on Keith’s face and his voice as he shoves the dog away, trying to sit up again.

Helpful as he is, Shiro offers Keith a hand. But before Keith can take it, there’s the sudden feel of wet dog nose nudging against Shiro’s outstretched palm. And ninety pounds of dog pressing against his arm, begging Shiro for scratches. 

Who is he to deny such a cute dog his ear scratches? 

“Hi Kosmo, nice to meet you,” Shiro says, as he proceeds to pet the dog.  
  
“Kosmo’s mine. Found him wandering along the highway fifty miles from here, drenched in rain. Or rather: he found me,” Keith explains. There’s something soft in his words as Kosmo hurries from Shiro to Keith and back again, asking for pets and pressing his nose against their outstretched hands.   
  
“He’s amazing, Keith. What kind of breed is he?” Shiro asks as the dog continues to circle between them.   
  
Kosmo must be about two feet tall with a thick coat in shades of black and grey, pointed ears, almond-shaped eyes and a dark nose. He reminds Shiro a lot of a wild wolf, with his muscular build and his sharp features. 

He’s a beautiful dog.  
  
“We assume he’s an Alaskan Shepherd. Very stubborn and very energetic. Also, he’s currently shedding like crazy, watch your clothes.” Keith chuckles. Judging from Shiro’s pants, it’s already too late for that remark. But Shiro has to get used to dog hairs anyway, doesn’t he?   
  
“Just be careful, he doesn’t trust strangers.” 

Exactly at this moment, Kosmo decides to jump onto his hind paws and tackle Shiro with his whole weight – just to lick over Shiro’s face. 

“Nevermind,” Keith sighs. “Down, Kosmo.” And the dog reacts instantly, jumping back to all fours before he walks back to Keith and sits down in front of him, his tail wiggling expectantly at his owner.

“We assume he was raised in a kennel. Whenever he’s stressed, he starts running in circles, which is a sign of hospitalism. It’s something that often appears with dogs who grew up in small spaces without any stimuli,” Keith explains, his eyes fixed on the dog. “It basically means he’s lacking a lot of things young dogs should learn.”   
  
From his back pocket, Keith pulls a dog treat. Instead of holding it between him and Kosmo, he draws his hand to the side and Shiro can see Kosmo’s initial struggle to look at Keith instead of the piece of meat. After a few seconds, the dog’s eyes focus on Keith, staring at him as if the treat didn’t exist.   
  
It’s then that Keith hands him the reward.

“Not only does he have a hard time socializing with other dogs, he also wasn’t used to the sound of cars or trucks. So when I found him on the motorway, he was the picture of misery. He’s still not used to everything, but we’re getting there,” Keith continues to explain. 

“Guess talent with dogs runs in the family, huh?” Shiro smiles.  
  
“Well, if you say so…” Keith says, scratching his face. “But we’re not here to talk about Kosmo. Come on, let’s get you a dog.”   
  


Shiro nods, patting Kosmo’s head a last time before turning back to the kennels. From what he’s seen so far, he’s still missing the _‘click’_ he’s searching for. Maybe it’s like relationships and that moment never happens? 

As Keith motions Kosmo to leave them alone, Shiro sighs. He might try and get to know Freddy a little better. At least he seemed eager and easy to train.

“Okay, this might sound a bit crazy, but we might have the perfect dog for you. She arrived at the beginning of winter, but we couldn’t find someone willing to put a lot of time into training her.”

Keith’s words catch his attention. “Tell me more,” he says. 

“Her former owners dumped her off in front of the shelter, in the middle of the night when it was snowing like crazy. Mom woke up from the sound of something scratching at the gate.” Keith sighs as he motions Shiro to follow him to the back.   
  
“Wow, that sounds terrible.”   
  
“Yeah, she definitely didn’t deserve to be treated like that,” Keith adds and stops in front of the door to the second room in the shed. “I have to warn you, she’s usually very calm and friendly, but she’s also very territorial – we have to keep her away from the other dogs to keep them safe.”   
  
“What do you have in there? A lion?” Shiro jokes. The smile on his lips is mirrored on Keith’s.   
  
“Might as well be. No, she’s a Malamute mix, three years old and a little hothead,” he explains, stepping into the next room.

“Say hello to Atlas.”

There’s only one kennel in this room, and Shiro remembers how it was used in the past to keep difficult dogs apart from the other ones. And right in the middle of said kennel sits a dog. 

A beautiful dog, with wolfish features that look similar to Kosmo’s, and big round eyes the color of chocolate. Even when she’s sitting upright she reaches Shiro’s thigh with ease. Her long fur is dull, but it burns in all shades of red and brown, a stark contrast to the white of her face and white spots around her paws and her belly. 

Her eyes focus on Shiro, never leaving him as he makes his way towards her iron cage. She might be a bit dirty and her fur is ragged, but her gaze is proud and attentive, judging the intruder. 

Shiro is in love. 

“She’s very stubborn,” Keith’s voice comes from the door. “We can’t give her to people with kids because she might be aggressive towards them. She also has a lot of energy and needs long walks and mental activities. I’m sure she will love joining you on your runs. You would have to do a lot of training with her, but I’m sure she’ll be an amazing companion and a perfect guard dog.”

“May I?” Shiro points to the lock on the kennel door. It takes Keith only two steps to get next to him and open the kennel for him.

“Her name is Atlas?” Shiro asks, his eyes never leaving the dog’s. As he walks towards the Malamute, he lifts his hands to let her take in his scent. Without breaking their eye contact, Atlas stands up and walks over to Shiro, sniffing at his hand. Her ears flick down and her tail tilts up. 

Behind him, Shiro can hear Keith take a hurried step towards them – but he’s not fast enough for Atlas.

It’s with an ease that Atlas jumps, pressing her strong fore-paws against Shiro’s chest – and making Shiro stumble backwards, sending him flying to his ass when 70 pounds of wolf-dog take him down. 

“Atlas, no!” Keith yells, but Altas doesn’t care. Instead, she bends forward – and licks Shiro’s face in a wet stripe. Her tail is wagging happily as she looks at Shiro again. The way her mouth is open looks a bit like she’s smiling. 

It warms Shiro’s heart. 

“Hey Atlas, would you like to go home with me?” 

Atlas wags her tail, nudging Shiro’s cheek with her nose.

And Shiro turns to beam at Keith.  
  
“Well, I think I found my dog.” 

  
*   
  


“I have to look over her documents and she has a shot scheduled for tomorrow. Also, I’m sure Mom wants to see her off. So if you could pick her up on Tuesday, that would be great,” Keith explains, handing Shiro back his ID.

There are a few sheets of freshly printed paperwork in front of him, the name Atlas and a number next to it prominent on the first page. 

As children, Keith and Shiro had hardly spent any time in Krolia’s office, dreading boring paperwork. It was way too much fun trying to bathe the dogs or chase them around the property.   
  
Seeing Keith sitting in the office chair like Krolia used to do makes Shiro terribly aware of how much time has passed since he’s last been to this house. 

Because there was hardly any space left in the dog house, Krolia turned a room in the house into some kind of office for administrative work. Shiro remembers papers and folders stacking up on every surface – it’s an unexpected sight when he enters the office and the only folder he spots lies open in front of the computer.   
  
It’s a clear sign that digitalization has found its way even into this tiny town.   
  
“That’s perfect, gives me time to get a dog bed and everything I need,” Shiro says. He mentally calculates how much time he will have to go shopping for dog items between waiting for his furniture to be delivered and setting up his stuff in the empty house. 

“Oh wait, here’s a list.” Keith bends down to open one of the drawers to his left, pulling out a sheet of paper. “These are items you should buy before Atlas moves in with you. She needs a leash, a dog bed, two bowls and a box for transportation. And a couple of other things.” Keith then proceeds to bend to his right where he opens another drawer to pull out yet another sheet. 

“And here’s a checklist of things you should take care of in the house. Are your plugs dog-proof? Do you have anything laying around that could hurt or poison Atlas? Things like that,” he explains, handing Shiro the paper. 

“I know it’s a lot of information, but I promise you it will be worth it.”

“Thank you for your help, Keith. It’s much appreciated.” Shiro’s eyes skim the pages in front of him. Most of the advice seems logical at first glance. And yet, something in his gut feels off.  
  
“So, happy shopping?” Keith says, handing him the last batch of paperwork, a contract documenting the adoption process, signed by Keith and him.   
  
He’s a dog owner now. 

Seeing the name of his dog – his very own dog – black on white paper still feels unreal. He’s spent the past few weeks thinking about this moment, about finding and adopting a four-legged companion, one who would best-case stay with him for many years. But seeing Atlas felt right. A bit like love at first sight. He shouldn’t worry. 

Still, there’s some nagging voice in his mind.  
  
Keith must notice his pondering, tilting his head to the side as he speaks. “Do you need anything more?”

“I…” Shiro starts. It feels dumb to voice his concerns now that he signed all the contracts. “Do you really think I have enough experience for her? Do you think she’ll be happy with me?”

There’s a wrinkle forming between Keith’s eyebrows as his gaze fixates on Shiro.

“Shiro,” he says, determined. “Please believe me when I say that we’ve had Atlas for months now and a lot of people were interested in adopting her. She’s a pretty lady and the breed is quite popular.”   
  
Shiro can’t help but nod along. Atlas _is_ pretty, with her button eyes and her fluffy face. 

“But we never met someone she opened up to that much. In a matter of seconds.” As Keith speaks, he sorts the papers on the table. 

“You said she needs a lot of training. She’s my first dog, what if I do something wrong?”

“Shiro, I saw the way you taught Jimmy the Chow Chow how to sit back in eighth grade. I never met a more stubborn dog than Jimmy. And the way Atlas just trusted you completely? You’re a natural.” Waving his hand to emphasize his point, Keith bends forward – as much as the desk between them allows.   
  
“Keith.”

“Of course, training her will be a lot of work, but I’m sure you’ll do great. Believe me, I’m still feeling like I’m doing everything wrong with Kosmo, after two years training him.” The way Keith gazes at him pulls at Shiro’s heart. How could Keith become even more beautiful over the years? 

“Also, you are not alone,” Keith explains, his words soft, making Shiro melt into his chair. 

It makes him realize how much he’s missed his friend. 

“Thank you, Keith,” Shiro says as he stands up. “See you next week?”

“See you next week.”

It’s hard to keep his eyes from looking at Keith, but in the end, Shiro turns towards the door with a small wave.

Once his hand finds the door handle, Keith’s voice stops him in his tracks.   
  
“One more thing, Shiro.” 

Shiro looks over his shoulder, seeing Keith stand next to his desk, casually leaning his hip against it. 

“Huh?”   
  
There’s a warm smile on Keith’s lips, one that Shiro hasn’t seen in years. 

“It’s good to have you back,” Keith says.  
  
“It’s good to be back.” Shiro smiles back at him.

And, yeah, he thinks. It really is.  
  
*   
  
By the time Friday comes around, Shiro not only has most of his furniture set up, he’s also read every article about raising dogs there is on the internet. Twice. 

He’s also bought every item he needs for Atlas to move in. And then some. Or well... The whole house is filled with dog supplies. He might have gone overboard the slightest bit, but he decided he’d better have two dog beds – one in the living room near the fireplace and one in the master bedroom upstairs – just to provide options for Atlas. His job in the city might not have been the most exciting, but at least it left him with enough money to live a few months without having to rush into finding a new one – and get only the best supplies for his dog.

There are several dog toys laying in a basket next to the couch, a broad assortment suggested by the girl in the pet shop who had the time of her life providing Shiro with a sufficient starter kit for dog parents. 

“Give your girl a variety of chewing toys,” Romelle said, as she had introduced herself with a jump in her step, making her blond pigtails swing with every move. “Malamutes love to play.” She then proceeded to fill Shiro’s shopping car to the brim with toys, treats, a lovely dark red leash and the matching safety harness, two dog beds, brushes and tons of stuff Shiro’s never heard of before but was very sure he needed after Romelle’s lengthy explanation.  
  
Romelle had even given him a quick rundown on the feeding options, making Shiro’s head ache. He would definitely have to read into how he wanted to feed Atlas again. The internet had so far provided him with a battleground of opinions, ranging from “ _NOTHING BUT RAW MEAT”_ to _“well, dry insect food is okay.”_

He decided to ask Keith for help with that. 

“Dry food is your safest option for the start,” Romelle explained when she saw Shiro’s puzzled look in the food section. “Most shelters only feed dry food because it’s cheap and easy. So your girl will be used to that anyways. Also, she will have to get used to living with you – which can cause an upset stomach. So I’d suggest dry food or rice and chicken for the first weeks. After that, you can test some options.”

Shiro just nodded along, planting a small bag of dry food by the brand Romelle suggested into his shopping cart. And another one, just in case. 

Having all the supplies for Altas delivered gave Shiro a lot of time to settle into the house. His grandparents had left Shiro with a perfectly intact two-story house with way too many rooms for one person, a big living area with a working fireplace, and a tiny patch of garden with a giant oak tree that had Shiro’s treehouse in it.   
  
As a child, Shiro had loved this house. After his parents had died in the accident and his grandparents had taken him in, the house had always had a timeless charm to it, with massive wooden furniture and creaking stairs. But now that he’s spent ten years in his own apartment with his own furniture – modern, clean, cozy – Shiro found that maybe it was time to say goodbye to the solid timber wardrobe and get one that felt more like him. Still cozy, but more neutral and modern. One that went along with a few pieces of furniture he brought from his old apartment.

His biggest concern is still the kitchen.   
  
Living on fast food and takeout might have helped him through college, but once Shiro had graduated and found an apartment, he started to look into cooking his own food and eating cleaner. So when he noticed that his grandma’s 25-year-old kitchen equipment had long passed its due date and the old gas range was more of a fire hazard than anything else, Shiro decided to get a completely new kitchen. 

The downside of getting a new kitchen was measuring everything. Then measuring it again just to be sure. And finally deciding just to call a professional to measure the kitchen and provide him with suggestions for the new furniture. Two hours later, Shiro had the plans for his new kitchen in his hands and an installation date two weeks from now. Just enough time to get by on takeout and without setting himself on fire while trying to figure out the gas stove. 

Between unpacking moving boxes, ordering a new kitchen, and trying to find a perfect place for two dog beds, Shiro hardly has time to catch his breath before Tuesday rolls around. 

‘ _DOG!!!_ ’ his calendar reads. He’s marked the day in, circled it three times, and added dog ears to the circle. Shiro might need an extra coffee that morning, thoughts about what could possibly go wrong keeping him from sleeping the night before. 

When he parks his car in the driveway of _‘Marmora Dog Shelter & Training,’ _ his hands are shaking. He’s not sure if it’s from only running on two coffees or being nervous, but it doesn’t matter when Krolia pulls him in a strong hug, one that nearly lifts him off his feet. He’s always admired Krolia for her strength, but Shiro figured it was from carrying seventy pounds of dog around on a regular basis. 

“We missed you,” Krolia says, putting her hand on Shiro’s shoulder. And suddenly he feels like he’s ten again. The only thing missing is Krolia offering a cup of her famous hot chocolate to him. 

“Missed you too,” he answers. Because he means it. 

Atlas has missed him as well. Or so it seems. Because the moment they enter her room, she jumps to her feet, her tail wagging fast. Shiro can barely enter her kennel before she jumps him, pressing her big paws to his chest and licking over his face. 

“You want to go home, Atlas?” Shiro asks, carefully wrapping his arms around the dog. 

And Atlas barks, cheerfully. 

“Wow, she really loves him, huh?” Shiro can hear Krolia from where she’s standing in the doorframe. 

“I told you so,” Keith explains.

Krolia whistles, clearly impressed. “Well, who could blame her?” 

Shiro hears Keith growl, _“_ _Mom_ _”_ but he’s too invested in pressing his fingers into Atlas’s soft fur to follow their conversation further.

Keith and Krolia help Shiro put the safety gear and leash on Atlas to lead her to Shiro’s car. While Keith holds the leash, Krolia hands Shiro a box. “This is her favorite blanket and her favourite plush toy. She will be lost the first nights at a new home, so having something familiar will help her calm down. There’s also a bit of the dry food she’s used to – just for the first days,” she explains.

Shiro nods along, putting the box on the passenger seat.

“Did you bring a dog crate?” Keith asks. “I’m sure she’ll love to ride shotgun, but that will take some time.” 

“Yeah, in the trunk. Hope it’s big enough.” 

“So Atlas, ready to start a new adventure?” Keith turns to the dog, leading her to the back of Shiro’s car before he lifts her into the box, ruffling her fur one last time. “Be nice to Shiro, he only wants the best for you,” he says before closing the crate and the trunk. 

Krolia waves at Atlas before she turns back to Shiro. “So, how does it feel, Shiro? Becoming a dog parent?”

“Weird? I’m nervous? But mostly I’m looking forward to living with her.”

“You’ve really grown up, haven’t you?” Krolia smiles. 

It fills Shiro with pride to hear such a compliment from Krolia, a woman who was one of his role models back in his youth.   
  
“Thank you. Really. For trusting me with her.” 

Krolia steps forward, a leaflet in her hands. 

“Have you considered taking dog training courses? Keith will surely be happy to have you in one of his courses.” 

“Keith’s courses?” Shiro’s eyes wander to Keith who’s currently trying to fix some pebble on the floor between his feet. 

“Oh, he hasn’t told you? Keith has branched out and now offers dog training. There are open groups twice a week, but he also offers private sessions.”

“Mom.” Keith groans, rolling his eyes. 

“What? You’re the best trainer in town and Atlas deserves the best training. Plus it will be good for you. To catch up on old times,” Krolia explains, handing Shiro the leaflet. “You’ll get a discount, of course,” she adds.

The leaflet shows a picture of Kosmo, smiling at the camera next to some information about the courses. 

Keith averts his eyes, shuffling his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Please don’t force Shiro,” he says between his teeth.  
  
It’s so typical for Keith to take himself back, not wanting to force a decision on Shiro. He really hasn’t changed that much, Shiro finds. But over the years of their friendship, Shiro had learned to navigate Keith’s modesty, knowing how to handle it.

“If it’s okay for you,” Shiro says. “I don’t want to impose.”   
  
“Don’t worry, you’re not,” Keith says, his gaze turning softer. He points to the leaflet in Shiro’s hands.   
  
“This has my number on it. You can... Just text me and I’ll send you our appointments. And please never hesitate to call in case you need any help with Altas.”   
  
“I will make sure I will.”   
  
*   
  
There’s an error message popping up on his screen when Shiro types in the number.

 _‘You already have this number in your contacts,’_ the warning reads.   
  
It redirects him to contact information about Keith – the ones Shiro has kept on speed dial for ten years. Even the profile picture is a ten year old picture of Keith, taking Shiro down memory lane. 

It’s a nice picture of Keith, one where he gives Shiro the finger for trying to snap a picture of him. The resolution is crap, but the picture reminds Shiro of the summer they spent fixing the dog house. It was so hot they’d been working without shirts and Krolia came by every half hour or so to spray the dogs and the boys with cold water from the garden hose to help them cool down.   
  


Shiro changed his phone over the years and lost a lot of messages in the process. So he’s happy there aren’t any old conversations with Keith appearing on his phone once he opens the messenger app.  
  
He types a short message to Keith, ‘ _Hello, this is Shiro :)_ ’ before pocketing his phone and turning to Atlas in the back of his truck. 

Getting Atlas out of her crate is the first challenge. Carrying her weight over to his front door is another. At least she’s perfectly still in his arms, her ears pressed to the sides. 

Once he’s inside and the door is closed behind her, Shiro sets her down and unleashes her. He doesn’t remove her harness – just in case.   
  
There’s a bowl of water and food close to the entry, but Atlas ignores it. She’s padding through Shiro’s living room and sniffing at the furniture while Shiro is hanging his jacket on the coat rack behind the door. 

Keith had told him to give Atlas some room and time to explore the house by herself, making herself at home. So Shiro sits down in front of the fireplace, his phone in hand, scrolling through dog blogs and searching for dog toys, his eyes peeking over his screen now and then to check on his dog. 

She seems curious and not at all frightened by the new surroundings. At one point, he hears the sound of her paws on the kitchen floor, and, _yes_ , Shiro thinks, he can definitely get used to this.

It takes about twenty minutes before Atlas dares to drink some water. From where he’s looking up over his phone, Shiro can see that she’s curiously sniffing at the dry food but won’t eat. 

She also doesn’t seem to like the stairs. There’s only so much Atlas can explore on the ground floor, so she ends up standing in front of the sofa, staring at Shiro. He experimentally pats the empty space beside him – and to his surprise, Atlas jumps up, curling herself up beside him, her eyes fixed on Shiro.

Shiro’s heart sings. 

He snaps a picture of his fluffy roll, sending it to Keith with the comment, _“Blessed.”_

In return, he gets a thumbs up from Keith. 

They sit like that for a while, Shiro reading on his phone and Atlas lying beside him. She doesn’t sleep, but she seems a bit calmer than before, not feeling the urge to pace around. It’s amazingly domestic, spending time with a dog like this. With _his_ dog. 

And everything seems perfect to Shiro.

Until it doesn’t anymore. 

Until Atlas suddenly jumps up and starts pacing the floor, steady circles while her gaze fixes on Shiro. 

“Do you need to go outside?” Shiro asks. 

Of course, the dog doesn’t understand his words, but it’s worth a try. 

Atlas doesn’t answer, but her pacing continues. 

So Shiro puts her on her leash and heads for the door. 

All of a sudden, Atlas is snarling, bending down into an attack position – and she starts barking loudly. 

Completely puzzled, Shiro tugs at her leash to get her to move and walks her outside – where the barking stops. Instead of pacing around or barking, Atlas waddles through the small front yard, sniffing at some bushes and patches of grass before she squats down to pee. 

_‘What an awkward way to tell me you need to go out,_ ’ Shiro thinks, raising an eyebrow when Atlas comes back to him, something that looks like a smile on her face. 

Once she’s done exploring the yard, they go back inside. 

Shiro has hardly time to slip out of his jacket, when he hears Atlas growling again. She’s facing the door, looking at Shiro as she bares her teeth. 

“You need to go out again?” Shiro asks, putting on his jacket again before leading the dog outside. 

But Altas only sniffs at the bushes, pads a tiny circle around the doorway and lies down in front of Shiro, looking up expectantly.

“Don’t you need to pee?” Shiro asks her, trying to find an answer in the dog’s face. Atlas only flicks her ears and bends her head to the side as if waiting for his command. 

It’s brisk outside, with strong wind, and Shiro does the only thing that comes to his mind: He leads Atlas back inside. 

He’s barely taken two steps into the living room before he hears the familiar growl again, followed by a loud bark. With a sigh, he heads for the door again. 

And again – Atlas does nothing but inspect the garden gnome before lying or sitting down in front of Shiro, watching him. 

Shiro repeats this at least two times more. Once they are inside and Shiro hangs up his jacket, Atlas starts barking and doesn’t stop until they are outside. 

“Please, Atlas,” Shiro begs when they leave the house for the fifth time.

But there’s no answer. Atlas’s big eyes look up from where she’s sitting next to him on the doorstep, perfectly polite. And Shiro sighs. All the articles and still Shiro has no idea what to do. 

As a last resort, his finger hovers over Keith’s number in his contacts. 

He feels stupid. He’s had a dog for an hour and he’s already calling Keith like a maniac. But he has no idea what to do.

“Shiro, is something wrong?” Keith’s voice comes over the phone and Shiro huffs about how right Keith’s gut feeling was.

“Yeah, you can say so.” He explains the situation to him as best as possible. 

“Does she try to hurry outside?”  
  
“No, it’s just.. barking. And she’s calm once we’re outside.”   
  
“Hmm. I have an idea. Would it be okay for me to come over?” Shiro’s heart jumps at Keith’s offer.

“Yes, of course, that would be great,” he says.

“Be there in ten,” Keith answers before he hangs up, leaving Shiro and Atlas standing in the garden. 

Atlas doesn’t seem to mind the wait. Shiro has opted for a long training leash so Atlas can move freely. And she uses the time to explore the front yard a bit further, chasing a squirrel and finding a spot where she starts digging.

Ten minutes fly by like nothing, Shiro finds, because watching Atlas enthusiastically digging through his yard is very alluring. The happy barks she lets out every time she looks at him are nothing compared to her low growl at the front door. 

So it actually surprises Shiro when Keith pulls up in his driveway in a pickup truck, a little out of breath as he walks up to them. His hair is tousled, the first two buttons of his flanel are undone and his sleeves are rolled up, making it seem as if Shiro called him when he was busy, probably working with the dogs. 

And Shiro can’t help but notice how, despite his disarray, Keith looks _good_. Something about the lone mountain man look is really appealing to Shiro. 

Seeing Keith’s face like this in his front yard would, on any other occasion, make Shiro’s heart skip a beat. Now he’s only exhaling a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Thank you so much for coming over.” Keith waves it off before kneeling in front of Atlas. Her tail is wagging as he scratches her behind the ear.  
  
“There’s our culprit,” Keith laughs. “Shiro has you for an hour and you’re already worrying him. We can’t have that, can we?” His voice is soft and Shiro melts a bit at the sight of Keith being so open and kind to Atlas. Shiro knows Keith cares a lot for her, so it’s even worse he has to disappoint Keith like this. 

They enter the house and in an instant, Atlas faces the door, snarling and growling, her ears pointed upwards. 

Keith lifts his hand to his chin, concentrating on the dog in front of them. Atlas’s barking grows louder and Shiro has a hard time holding her on the leash. 

“I don’t think she wants to go outside,” Keith says, eventually. “Something about the door seems to really disturb her,” he adds. 

“About the door?” Shiro’s eyes fall to the door. And to the old coat rack right next to the doorknob. 

And something in Shiro’s mind clicks.

“Okay, wild guess, but just let me try something, okay?” Keith moves towards the stand and picks it up, carrying it towards the kitchen. 

Atlas’s gaze, as well as her barking, follows Keith’s movement. She completely ignores the door, fixating on the coat rack next to Keith. 

Keith huffs, squatting down to get on eye-level with Atlas who’s still growling.

“Yeah, just as I expected. She doesn’t like your coat rack.” 

Keith’s words take Shiro completely by surprise. And he tells him so. Why would an inanimate object scare his dog?  
  
“Dogs are easily irritated by silhouettes,” Keith explains. “It seems she’s afraid of the shape because she doesn’t know it.”

Keith takes one of the scarves wrapped around the stand and places it on the floor. He then takes something out of his back pocket. In an instant, Atlas stops barking, carefully eyeing Keith instead before she trots over, sniffing at the treat in Keith’s hand first and then at the scarf on the floor. She’s hesitant, but the growling has stopped. 

Keith rewards her with the treat before he looks up at Shiro.   
  
“Can you come over here?” He asks and Shiro walks over to his coat rack. 

“We have to show her the stand is not scary. Can you place the scarf back on the hook?” Shiro does exactly as he’s told. Atlas steps closer, cautiously sniffing at Shiro’s leg and the stand, growing braver every second. 

Keith gives her another treat.

Once she calms down, Keith tries to take Atlas outside and back inside again. She accompanies him without barking. Even another round with the coat rack at its former place doesn’t seem to scare her anymore. 

“Wow, that was.. sorry Keith, you must think I’m stupid.” One of Shiro’s hands finds his hair, flustered by the fact that he didn’t get how Atlas was barking at the coat rack and not the door.   
  
But Keith puts a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he says, his words soft and a smile on his lips. “It’s perfectly normal to be worried. I know that too well. Couldn’t sleep at all the first night I had Kosmo. In the middle of the night I couldn’t hear his breathing and I thought he had died.” 

Shiro laughs. He could picture Keith as the caring dog parent so well. He’s only met Kosmo once, but the sheer devotion Keith put into taking care of Atlas and trying to understand her needs is enough to make Shiro’s knees weak. 

“Thank you, Keith,” he says. Because he means it. Because he has no idea what he would have done without him. No online articles had prepared him for Atlas being afraid of his winter wardrobe.

Keith smiles at him, warm and soft around the edges, just like Shiro remembers. The laughter lines around his lips are making him even more beautiful, adding an aura of maturity to the young hothead Shiro remembers.   
  
“Always.” The word rolls from Keith’s lips and Shiro is sure he can actually feel something hit his heart with the force of a brick. It really isn’t fair for Keith to sneak back into his heart like this. 

Though, maybe, Shiro has to admit, his adoration for Keith had never fully left.   
  
Shiro only notices he’s been staring a second too long at Keith when Keith clears his throat, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. 

“So, how’s Atlas doing when she’s not barking at your coat rack?” he asks, patting Atlas. She’s the perfect height to reach from a standing position. “Has she used her bed yet?”  
  
Shiro shakes his head. “She’s just been pacing around before jumping up on the sofa with me.”   
  
Keith’s hand finds his chin again. The pondering pose really suits him well, Shiro thinks before he tries to navigate his thoughts back to his dog. Atlas really is the more important part here. 

But being professional is so hard when Keith looks this good. 

“She will probably want a safe space for the night.” As Keith talks, he walks into the living room, inspecting the dog bed. And Shiro follows him. 

It’s a short walk, the entryway opens directly into the wide living room from where they stand, only framed by the stairs to the right and the kitchen to the left. Shiro’s grandma had insisted on an kitchen opening to the living room and Shiro’s always loved how it bathed the kitchen in perfect light. 

The sound of paws on the wooden floor tells Shiro that Altas is following after him. 

Once he stands in front of the room, Keith turns towards Shiro, one eyebrow raised. “Can you get her blanket from the crate for me?”  
  
The crate! Shiro had completely forgotten about the crate!   
  
“It’s in my car, I’ll get it in a sec,” Shiro says as he stumbles on his feet, making his way to the car. How could he forget the crate with all of Altas’ belongings? No wonder she hasn’t touched her food yet.   
  
When Shiro comes back into the living room, Keith is placing a trail of snacks leading to the dog bed. He takes the blanket Shiro hands him and puts it on the dog bed in the living room.

“We now have to give her some time. Let’s wait a bit to see if she accepts the bed,” Keith says and Shiro nods along, hanging on his lips. The way Keith speaks about dogs feels so natural. Shiro’s sure he could spend all day listening to Keith talk about how to train his dog. 

As Keith turns towards Shiro, there’s a frown line between his brows. “I’m… uhm…” his voice quivers. “It might be easier for Atlas to accept her bed with me around. Since she already knows me and stuff,” Keith explains. And it’s the opposite of a problem, having to spend time with Keith. 

So Shiro gestures to the sofa. “Please make yourself at home.”

Shiro has to bite his tongue. The way Keith sits comfortably on his couch, in his red flannel and with his hair falling around his cheeks is just too cozy. Shiro only notices now that he’s not wearing his hair in a ponytail, Keith’s long strands pooling in his neck and falling over his shoulders. And wow. He could get used to the sight of Keith sitting on his couch like that. But it still feels highly inappropriate, after everything that’s happened. 

Oh, how Shiro wishes Keith would actually call this place his home. But Shiro’s barely back after ten years of radio silence and he’s sure there are more important things in Keith’s life than an ex-military guy with a missing arm and a broken heart who had his life turned around in a matter of months. 

So Shiro’s eyes find his dog instead, watching Atlas where she’s sitting next to the sofa, eyeing the trail of snacks suspiciously.   
  
At least he’s got Atlas now, Shiro thinks. It’s a good start to a new life. A new, old life. Because everything in this town is just like ten years ago and completely different at the same time. So having a loyal companion at his side to navigate the mess his life became feels like a perfect decision to Shiro. 

“Eyes on me,” Keith says, breaking Shiro from his thoughts. Well, he doesn’t need to be told twice to look at the handsome man in front of him. “We, ah… we have to ignore Atlas. So she won’t feel forced to use her bed.” 

So Shiro’s eyes focus on Keith. And he can swear there’s a tint of red on Keith’s cheeks. 

“So uhm,” Keith starts. “Still a lot to do here?”

Shiro leans back into the couch. “Yeah, the kitchen won’t arrive before next week. At least I have a bed and a closet. To be honest I haven’t looked into a few of the rooms. At some point the house was just too big for two elderly people to keep clean, so they shoved everything in the rooms they didn’t need.”  
  
“So your old room is a garbage dump now?” Keith says, smirking. His expression is awfully appealing.   
  
Shiro shrugs. “Actually that’s the only room they hadn’t touched. I swear my old bed still has the same bedding on it.”   
  
“The one with the stars?” 

“Uhm.” Shiro nods. 

“Classic Shiro,” Keith says and Shiro didn’t know Keith’s grin could make him even more beautiful, but there he is, casually stealing Shiro’s heart by remembering his favourite bed sheets.  
  
Just when he’s about to counter Keith’s snarky remark, he can see movement in the corner of his eye. He does his best not to follow Atlas with his eyes, but he tries to be sneaky about it.  
  
Atlas heads for the snack trail, curiously sniffing at the treats before they disappear into her mouth. She is careful, with slow movements and a crouched stance, as she makes her way through the living room, picking up one treat after the other. 

It takes her a short while to get to the bed, but she nuzzles at the fabric – before she flops down onto the dog bed, curling into a crescent. 

Shiro beams. 

“Is she in the bed?” Keith asks, not wanting to turn around to ruin the moment. 

“Yes!” Shiro nods enthusiastically.  
  
“Praise her!” Keith says. “Let her know it’s what she’s supposed to do.”   
  
“I’m so proud of you, Atlas!” Shiro says, catching his dog’s attention. It’s enough to make her stand up and walk over to Shiro, looking at him expectantly. 

He offers her his hands and she presses her wet nose against his open palm. A cold and wet dog nose is definitely not the best feeling in the world, Shiro thinks. But it’s a cute gesture, warming its way into Shiro’s heart. 

“Good girl. We’ll get you there,” he says as she nudges her snout into his hands. 

She lets out one short and happy bark, letting Shiro curl his fingers into the thick fur around her neck. She then jumps up onto the sofa into the space between Shiro and Keith as if it was the most natural thing.

“Oh,” Keith says, as he lets his fingers sweep through Atlas’s fur. “Maybe she just likes your sofa better than the bed.” 

They share a smile. One that makes something in Shiro’s chest flutter. 

Yes, Shiro thinks, he could definitely, _definitely_ get used to sitting on a sofa with Keith, one dog (or several dogs) lying between them, both of them just enjoying the moment. It’s the perfect picture in Shiro’s head. And maybe he should talk to Keith about all of... _this_. 

Whatever _this_ is. 

“Keith, I..:” he starts, but he gets interrupted by Keith’s phone chiming. Keith looks at it, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, it’s only Mom, asking about dinner,” Keith explains, one of his hands still buried in Atlas’s fur. 

His words make Shiro aware of the time in an instant. He hasn’t paid attention to the time since the moment Keith appeared on his doorstep. But the warm hues of the sunset creeping into the room tell him it’s way past dinner time. 

“Wow, it’s late. I’m sorry I held you up so long,” Shiro says the second Keith has finished typing his reply. “I would offer you dinner, but well, I don’t have a kitchen at the moment.” 

Keith looks up at him from his phone, silent for a second as if he’s contemplating.

“Are you in the mood for pizza? A friend of mine makes the best pizza in town,” he says eventually.  
  
“You mean the _only_ pizza in town?” The teasing feels right, feels so much like them, Shiro notices. Like they used to talk ten years ago. 

“Well, maybe.” Keith grins at him before he checks his phone for the restaurant’s menu. 

“So, are you still ruining your pizza with pineapple?” he asks. And Shiro throws a pillow at him, causing Keith to yelp. 

“Okay, one pizza with ham and one abomination, my treat.”

Yeah, Shiro thinks as he laughs. _It’s just like old times_.

The pizza doesn’t take long to arrive and Shiro assumes it might be because nobody in this small town is in the mood to order pizza on a Tuesday night. But he won’t complain. Not when he spends the evening with Keith on his sofa. 

It somehow feels like a dream to Shiro, because they are laughing over pizza in the living room of the house he now owns. It’s the same pizza, the same guys, the same old jokes. Only now they are ten years older and Keith is ten times more attractive. And there is a dog lying between their feet, snuggling into Shiro’s hands. 

Shiro has spent the past ten years dreading the moment he would meet Keith again, having nothing to say or stumbling over his sentences and excuses. 

But it’s the opposite of awkward when he asks Keith about the dogs at the kennel. Keith starts to smile and tells him all about his dog training lessons. And, honestly, Shiro thinks, he can’t wait for his lessons with Keith to start. Because there’s definitely a lot of catching up to do.

The sky is pitch dark and filled with stars as they say their goodbyes, Keith waving at Atlas and Shiro from his truck before he disappears down the road, leaving Shiro with his own dog and a hopeful heart. 

Even though the circumstances around him moving back home are definitely not the most positive, Keith has somehow managed to bring something positive to his ‘homecoming’. 

For the first time since he arrived back in his hometown, falling into bed that night doesn’t feel like a high-speed train crashing into a mountain. 

In fact, for the first time, Shiro feels hopeful.

*


	2. Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning (tiny spoiler): There's a scene at the end where Shiro panics because he can't find his dog. If you're sensitive to this content: The scene starts at _“Well, if you insist…” Shiro starts."_ and ends at _And it’s getting easier to breathe._

*

Summer sweeps into town way faster than Shiro can blink. 

Between setting up the last pieces of furniture and getting used to life with a dog, Shiro hardly has time to focus on which day it is. 

One moment it’s spring and he’s trying desperately to get Atlas to sit, and the next he’s taking Atlas into town with him, where she sits down at every street light, looking up at him expectantly like the good girl she is. 

So when Shiro takes a look at his calendar and realizes that it’s been three months since Atlas has moved in with him, he has to double-check. 

But summer bleeds into town, bringing hot days and chill nights. 

Shiro finally has a new kitchen, but also gets on a first name basis with Hunk, Keith’s friend who runs the pizza place. He becomes Shiro’s saviour on days where Atlas tests his patience and all he wants to do is bury himself under a mountain of blankets and down a whole tub of ice cream. 

The house starts to look more like his than his grandma’s and one weekend Shiro finally finds the time to work through the rooms full of stuff his grandparents didn’t use anymore. And just as he throws out old furniture and big three-ring binders, his grief for his grandparents bleeds from his heart, only lingering in his fingertips on lonely days. 

Just like his grief, Shiro's heartbreak wanes, slowly but surely making room for shy smiles, for blushing cheeks whenever Keith appears on his doorstep to take their dogs for a walk in the forest, for wanton dreams and sleepless nights. And Shiro blames his lack of sleep on a missing AC and not on the image of Keith appearing in his mind. 

And so, on the first days of summer, Shiro steps out of the door and feels great for the first time in months. With Atlas’s leash tied around his waist, he goes for a run, enjoying the soft light of early morning hours and the wet dew against his calves whenever he brushes against grass or bushes.

Atlas runs dutifully next to him, pure grace on four paws. She loves to accompany him, sometimes running ahead of Shiro and sometimes trotting next to him, her eyes focused on Shiro.

While everything else in Shiro’s life slowly seems to fall back into place with time, training Atlas proves a challenge.

Shiro is sure that, by now, he has read every article on the internet, has bought all the books there are and browsed every Reddit forum about dog training, and still there are moments he’s about to lose his mind when Atlas doesn’t want to listen to him. Even though he knows she understands what he wants from her. 

Shiro usually has a lot of patience, but some days, Atlas is straight out testing his limits. 

Like the time she chased the mailman from Shiro’s property, baring her teeth and barking loudly. Frightened by the big, loud dog, the mailman started to drop letters over Shiro’s fence from then on. He only stopped when Shiro ran after him one morning, promising to keep Atlas in the house during the mornings so he wouldn’t meet her. In addition, Keith suggested giving a few of Altas’ favorite snacks to the mailman, so every time he came to bring the mail, Atlas would connect him to something positive.   
  
Three weeks later, the mailman has become Atlas’s new best friend, not allowed to leave before scratching Atlas generously behind her ears. 

There was also that time Shiro invited Keith and Krolia over to christen his new kitchen with a homemade casserole. The five minutes he had to leave Altas unsupervised to set the table were five minutes too long – and enough time for Atlas to sneak into the kitchen and down the entire casserole, leaving the kitchen sated and content just when the doorbell rang. Keith and Krolia had laughed and they ordered pizza instead, but still, Shiro had decided to install a gate – just in case. 

And let’s not forget the time Atlas decided tearing Shiro’s pillows apart was more interesting than playing with one of her many plush toys. Shiro found her too late, right when she was trying to catch the feathers floating around the bedroom with her mouth. But when she smiled at him with her big puppy eyes, one feather landing on the spot between her ears, Shiro couldn’t help but laugh and join her chasing the floating feathers.

Yes, having Atlas in his life is truly a blessing.

And a curse, whenever she makes him test his patience.

“One thousand times, Shiro,” Keith said when Shiro’d asked how long he was supposed to train _‘Down’_ with Atlas before she would listen to his command, regardless of her mood or distractions. 

“A thousand times?” Shiro sighed, looking down at his dog who looked at him with the the most innocent look a three year old dog lady could have.  
  
“A thousand times for each command.” The empathetic smile on Keith’s lips helped at least a bit to lower his frustration. 

A thousand times it was. 

So Shiro finds himself thinking _‘Patience yields focus,’_ Keith’s mantra in mind, whenever Atlas has a bad day or barks at other dogs for no reason. 

Because regardless of her mood swings, Shiro feels himself gradually falling in love with the big furball of a dog who curls up next to him in his bed at night. Who joins him on his runs in the woods, happily barking when she’s faster than Shiro. Who joins Shiro for spontaneous dance sessions in the kitchen, jumping around Shiro and barking along to the music. Her ‘awooo’s are too cute, fitting perfectly whenever Shiro hits a false note. 

Shiro even comes to enjoy taking her into the town with him. They might have to stop now and then and he has to keep Atlas from randomly sniffing at people’s plastic bags. Or has to keep her from children who want to pet her but end up pulling her ears or her tail. Or when the fifth person stops them on their way, asking Shiro what breed she is because, _wow_ , that dog sure is pretty. 

Atlas certainly turns all the heads in town.

Even more so when Shiro and Keith are seen together, two majestic wolf dogs the size of small bears walking next to their feet, most of the time well-mannered and focused on their dog-dads. Whenever the four of them are in town, people seem to avoid them, making big circles around them and their dogs. Shiro can’t blame them – Kosmo and Altas together can be intimidating, especially when Atlas decides to bark at a passing terrier for stepping into her comfort zone and Kosmo joins her. Because he can. 

While Atlas’s behavior towards other dogs proves to be one of the problems Keith and Shiro have to work on for a long time, she seems perfectly fine with Kosmo. 

The first time Kosmo invited her to play, his butt wiggling high in the air and his front half lowered to the ground in a playful manner, Atlas just crooked an eyebrow, watching him curiously. Now, three months later, Atlas joins Kosmo whenever he asks her to play with him, chasing him around Keith’s yard until they are tired and out of breath.

Shiro’s happy their dogs get along so well. It fills him with joy to see Kosmo wagging his tail whenever Atlas jumps from Shiro’s car. And he just can’t keep from smiling whenever Atlas runs to the window, barking happily as Keith’s truck pulls up in the driveaway. 

And when it gives Shiro a lot of reasons to spend more time with Keith, Shiro doesn’t complain. 

It gives him an excuse to ask Keith to go shopping for dog harnesses with him (earning a smug grin from Romelle as she sees the two of them together) or spend time on the outside patio of Hunk’s restaurant, sharing pizza and laughter with their dogs curled around their chairs, begging for leftovers. Other guests at the restaurants turn their heads when they see the big dogs, but as long as Hunk doesn’t mind, they are fine with the stares. And Hunk really doesn’t care. Quite the opposite. He seems to always have a table on the patio for the four of them and he starts storing dog treats behind the counter (“You know, Romelle gave me a bag when she was here the other day,” Hunk explains, a blush on his cheeks.) and feeding them to Atlas and Kosmo in return for them allowing him to pet them. 

Really, Shiro thinks, the four of them really must make quite a picture. 

One a stern loner who everyone still remembers as ‘wolf-kid’, the other an ex-military guy with a missing limb who returned from the big city where he’d never actually made it big. 

Shiro is not deaf to the gossip, he knows there are people talking behind their backs. Quite loudly, so to speak, because hardly a Sunday Farmer’s Market goes by without Shiro hearing some old lady talk about him in earshot, agitated about the wife that was clearly missing in his life. 

Shiro knows the rumors too well. Which woman in town they would be most likely to ‘catch.’ Which high-school girls are harbouring crushes on them or why they decide to stay single. Stuff like that. 

He just laughs the rumors off. 

Interestingly enough, they never come close to the truth, never even taking into consideration that Shiro might be gay. That Keith might not be interested in dating anyone his age when everyone had only ever teased Keith for growing up with more dogs than people. 

In a small town like theirs where everyone knows each other, there are hardly any secrets. It was like everyone kept judging you for the things you still regret and want to forget so badly. And once a prejudice manifested, it was stuck. So when Shiro went to the market one day and heard the old men behind his back whisper, “Yeah, he’s still hanging out with Wolf Boy,” it was hard to ignore the voices. So he inhaled deeply, letting the hatred roll from his shoulders. 

He wasn’t gonna start a discussion he couldn’t win right in the middle of the town square.

Especially when Keith had gotten used to being called Wolf Boy.

Shiro doesn’t remember much about his life before he met Keith. What Shiro remembers is the moment Keith appeared on the playground one day in fourth grade, mud on his face and his pants torn apart, two heads smaller than Shiro but armed with a stick, ready to beat the shit out of some fifth graders who tried to pester Shiro for his lunch. Having a grandma who was famous for her homemade bread and cakes could be a curse.In return for saving him, Shiro decided to share his slice of cake with Keith, and learned that Keith was three years younger than him and had no friends because everyone only called him Wolf Boy.   
  
“They say my Mom is a werewolf and she eats little babies during the full moon,” Tiny Keith said in between bites, his mouth full of cake crumbs. Even back then, Shiro was amazed by how brave Tiny Keith seemed to be. Shiro’s grandparents had taught him patience, had taught him that it was better to find your way with words. But Tiny Keith was wild, unbashful, not afraid to pounce. If anything, he reminded Shiro more of a cat than a wolf.   
  
“Does she?” Tiny Shiro asked, offering the remains of his cake to his new acquaintance.   
  
“No. But sometimes she lets me ride on big wolf dogs,” Tiny Keith explained with a shrug, his eyes glistening at the second slice of cake.   
  
“That’s so cool,” Tiny Shiro answered. To this point, he had never been close to anything bigger than his grandma’s tabby cat, so wolf dogs sounded pretty cool. 

“Do you want to be my friend, Keith?”   
  
Tiny Keith blinked at him, surprise written on his face. He wiped his sleeve over his mouth to get rid of all the crumbs before offering his hand to Shiro. 

“Yeah, sure. Let’s be friends.”  
  
And just like that, they became “Shiro and Keith.” And even though they were three years apart, they became inseparable over time. 

Shiro fondly remembers how their afternoons at the dog shelter turned into weekends turned into their whole summer holidays. If they weren’t helping Krolia with the dogs, they were exploring the large forest behind the cottage, building tents from sticks and branches and finding hidden caves in the mountains. 

Some days they could be found doing their homework in the treehouse Shiro’s grandpa had built for Shiro’s dad thirty years ago. His dad had outgrown the treehouse long ago, but for Shiro and Keith, it was the perfect place to pull all-nighters while watching the stars through the telescope Shiro got for his tenth birthday.   
  
Everything about their youth was easy, Shiro thinks with another sigh, as his eyes focus on a pebble stone in front of him. Anything that keeps him from staring directly at the shelter is a welcome distraction. 

The hard part... yeah, the hard part was coming of age, Shiro remembers.  
  
Because one day Shiro woke up with a need to clean his sheets. And another day his voice dropped and there were the lightest stubbles around his chin and there were _feelings_ in his gut. And had those guys on TV always looked so hot?   
  
Shiro flinches when he thinks about the moment he realized he was not into girls. And he flinches again when he remembers the dread he felt when he tried to share the information with Keith. 

Thinking back now, Shiro can only shake his head about his attempts to explain it to Keith with dumb alliterations until he finally had enough and put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, looking him in the eyes and telling him, “I think I prefer guys over girls.”  
  
Young Shiro knew Keith better than to assume Keith would leave the treehouse and never come back, but when Keith just shrugged and said, “Good for you,” Young Shiro’s chest had exploded into butterflies. “My uncle Antok is dating this new guy and it makes him happy. I hope one day you find a guy that makes you just as happy,” Keith added.   
  
And, well, Shiro was so surprised about Keith's casual expression that Keith had to ask twice for Shiro to help him with his math homework ten minutes later.   
  
If there was one thing Shiro could count on, it was Keith being there for him. Because while Keith was a hothead who was not afraid to punch his classmates, he would do so only if they were saying bad things about Shiro or making fun of Keith’s mom and her dog shelter. When the other guys in school ran after him and called him names, ‘ _awooo_ ’-ing to get on his nerves, Keith stayed calm, rolling his eyes at them. Since Shiro was three years older, Keith’s classmates hardly dared to make fun of Shiro, but there were at least two instances where Shiro was howled at by boys Keith’s age for talking to Keith. Both ended with black eyes and detention for the boys as well as Keith, and Shiro holding a pack of ice against Keith’s swollen lip that night. 

In all their years, Shiro never took Keith’s friendship for granted, never pressured Keith into telling him something he didn’t want to talk about. Shiro could feel when something was wrong with Keith – like that one Father’s Day when all the boys at lunch told about which awesome things they would do with their dads. Keith didn’t have to say what happened for Shiro to notice something was wrong. Keith had been grumpy that day, kicking doors shut with more force than ever while bottling up his anger before Shiro put a hand on his shoulder and invited Keith to come fishing with his granddad and him. 

The way Keith’s eyes shone at him made something in Shiro’s chest erupt into a million butterflies, a feeling he couldn’t place until later. 

Because Keith came up to him, two years later, three months before Shiro’s graduation, a lovely pink around his nose, telling Shiro that he was very right, guys are way better than girls.   
And while he smiled at Keith, Shiro’s hand on Keith’s shoulder promising all the support Keith would need, Keith’s words put thoughts into Shiro’s head.   
  
Thoughts which made Shiro feel guilty. 

Thoughts which kept him awake that night. Thoughts about Keith which made Shiro’s cheeks burn and his stomach turn. Thoughts about Keith which made his mind think thoughts he shouldn’t have been thinking. And pictures he shouldn’t have been picturing. And feelings for Keith he should definitely not have been feeling. Because they were friends, right? Keith was sixteen and Shiro didn’t want to break his heart by moving to the other side of the country.

So instead of telling Keith about his feelings, Shiro went to college and tried to forget Keith’s beautiful eyes and his beautiful smile.  
  
Because college was difficult enough to distract him from Keith’s calls and, as hard as it was not to return his calls, Shiro told himself it was enough for one of them to suffer from heartbreak.   
  
It took exactly three months, two days and fourteen hours for Keith to stop trying to call him. 

And sure, there were guys in his classes with long black hair and crooked smiles, some with legs for miles, enough to distract Shiro for a night or a week. 

But they were not Keith, never Keith.

Before Shiro knew, 8 years had passed without a word from Keith. College came and went, leaving him with a tiny apartment in a big city, a boring office job, and emptiness in his heart. He tried dating, even had a boyfriend for the past few years. A boyfriend who was kind, calm and focused on his career. He was everything that Keith had not been. 

Then the call came, informing Shiro about the passing of his grandfather and telling him he was the single heir of the estate. His boyfriend’s first reaction was to tell him to sell the house and buy a modern apartment in a city Shiro felt a stranger in, to start a life with a man he felt complacent with – but the fire in his veins burned for Keith alone.

And so Shiro broke up with his boyfriend, packed his bags, quit his job on short notice and moved back into the town he hadn’t set a foot in for ten years. Only to find himself a dog and a new life in his old home. 

With his childhood friend on speed dial, more handsome and kinder than ever.

And Shiro was truly fucked.  
  
*   
  
Despite Atlas’s stubbornness, Shiro’s favorite time of the week becomes his training sessions with Keith.

Once a week, they visit a group training session over at the dog shelter. Just like it helps Atlas to socialize with other dogs, it gives Shiro the chance to talk with a few neighbors, most of them old ladies or young couples who want to try family life with a dog. Shiro even recognizes a couple of familiar faces, old classmates or people from football practice back in high-school, now on the threshold of starting a family.

While the faces coming to the open group training change nearly every week, one thing stays the same: Dog Trainer Keith, having a keen eye on all the dogs and their owners, teaching the topic of the week. 

He’s a good teacher, Shiro thinks without bias. 

At the beginning of each lesson, Keith asks which topic they would like to cover, but also leaves enough room to discuss personal problems with each participant. Sometimes the level throughout the group is very different, ranging from young puppies to well trained old dogs, so Keith often gives the group a general task before visiting each dog and owner to talk about the most pressing matters. 

Just like today when they are doing hurdles.

Shiro lets Atlas zoom through obstacles while watching Keith teach a young girl with her dachshund the best way to get him to stop pulling at the leash when walking. 

When they started joining the group training, Atlas hated obstacles. She was lazy and stubborn, looking for the easiest way around any obstacle to get to the dog treat in Shiro’s hand – most times ignoring anything she was supposed to jump over or giving barrels a wide berth. 

It took Shiro and Keith a while, a lot of convincing and a ton of snacks to finally get Atlas to jump over the obstacles and hop onto the barrel. Seeing Atlas zooming through the path now, casually hopping over old tires and zig-zagging through traffic cones without a corrupting treat in Shiro’s hand fills Shiro with pride. 

They’ve really come a long way, and it’s all thanks to Keith. 

Over the three months he’s had Atlas, Shiro learned that Keith had the ability to read dogs completely. He always seemed to know exactly what the dogs in his courses were trying to tell their owners and what the owners were doing right or wrong. Most times, problems appeared when the human’s words were contradicting their actions and body language. 

When Shiro wanted Atlas to follow him, turning towards her and bending over was his first impulse – until Keith told him it was exactly the opposite, his body telling Atlas to stop in her tracks. Keith had also taught him to use short and quick sounds if he wanted to motivate her and long, steady sounds in case he wanted to calm her down. 

“There’s a really good book on behavioral psychology of dogs, remind me to lend it to you,” Keith had told him after a group session that left Shiro frustrated and Atlas confused. 

On top of reading dogs like a book, Keith was good at listening to problems Shiro had with Atlas and coming up with creative solutions. Most of the blog posts and books Shiro’s read so far made teaching a dog sound easy and fast, offering one-fits-all training solutions. He was quickly disillusioned when the instructions on the internet were hard to transfer into real-life dog training. 

“I really don’t know Keith,” Shiro said during one of the group sessions. “I’ve read five articles about Malamutes, all describing them as quiet dogs, hardly barking. You’ve heard her. She’s the opposite.”  
  
Keith just chuckled. “You know, Atlas has never read a description of her breed,” he explained.   
  
And oh. _Oh_. That was a good point.

Most times while Shiro tried to find a reason behind her behavior, Keith tried to offer him a solution. Like making Atlas like the postman. Or getting more toys for her which challenge her mentally - instead of pure chewing toys. Because, as it turned out, buying a snuffle mat saves Shiro’s pillows from being ripped apart. 

Of course, Shiro had to be patient with Atlas, but he wanted to give her all the time she needed to settle in. He knew things would not change in a matter of days– so giving Atlas room and forgiving her for things she didn’t know better became his utmost priority. 

“You’re doing great Shiro,” Keith had said one day, when Shiro turned up in his group sessions with a frown on his face and a sigh on his lips. “You’re giving Atlas so much. Your bond is unusually strong for the short time she’s been with you. She can be happy to have you.” And when Keith smiled at him, his frustration dissolved into dust.

Not only was Keith an amazing dog trainer – he was also a sight to behold as he demonstrated exercises, bent down to dogs to talk to them or simply stood proud and confident in front of the group, explaining the schedule of the days. Heck, Shiro got weak knees every time Keith so much as blew his training whistle or pet Atlas head. 

Young Keith had been handsome and cute, with passion burning in his veins and stars in his eyes, with limbs a bit too long and hair a chopped mess. 

But Keith now … Keith now is self-assured, moving with grace and confidence, talking with knowledge and passion. If young Keith was handsome, this Keith is beautiful in Shiro’s eyes. With sharp cheekbones, his strong chest and long limbs now filled out and slender, making Keith look _strong_. Shiro had seen him pick up Kosmo with ease, carrying him around for minutes at a time. 

And Shiro was definitely not proud of the noise that left his mouth that one time when his daydreams showed him the image of Keith carrying _him_ around. Though he was sure Keith could do so. 

Shiro would not be opposed. 

Young Keith would have laughed if Shiro had ever told him he would be wearing jeans and checkered flannels one day, with rolled up sleeves which showed off Keith’s well-defined forearms just right. And the jeans did an amazing job hugging his slender legs.

 _Oh come on brain, why do I have to think about his ass in these tight jeans again?_ Shiro has caught himself thinking more than once.

  
Keith still seemed to love his mullet, only letting it grow a bit longer than Shiro remembers - the perfect length to pull it into a ponytail, Keith had once explained he liked it that way so it wouldn’t get in the way with the dogs. And what Shiro would give to bury his hands in the soft strands of Keith’s hair, grabbing the hair at his neck and pulling Keith’s head back to decorate his neck with kisses and… 

With his face hot and most likely deep red, Shiro excused himself to the toilet when the thought hit him out of nowhere during another one of the training sessions. 

So, yeah, Atlas’s behavior is slowly getting better, while Shiro’s crush gets even worse. There’s no denying ten years apart did anything to weaken what he feels for the handsome man. If anything, the time apart made Shiro realize even more what he’s feeling for Keith. 

And every group session, every walk in the forest, every afternoon he spends, makes his feelings even stronger.

 _Yes,_ Shiro realizes, right in the middle of a training session, _he’s definitely in love with Keith._

_Damn._

*

As today’s session draws to an end and Shiro leads Atlas to his car, Keith jogs up to them, squatting down to eye-level with Atlas. 

“Good work, Atlas,” he says as he’s seeing them off. “I told you we would get her to balance over that barrel.” 

“Such a good girl,” Shiro says, beaming proudly. “Thank you, Keith,” he adds, turning towards Keith.   
  
“See you on Sunday?” Keith smiles at him.   
  
Shiro answers with a smile that’s just as bright.

“See you on Sunday.”   
  
Because Sundays have become _their_ days. It’s when both of them are free and have time for long walks in the woods with both their dogs. 

So, yeah, Shiro is really looking forward to Sunday.  
  
*

The days until Sunday feel like an eternity.  
  
But when Sunday morning finally comes, Shiro is not the only one excited for their adventure.

“Calm down, girl.” He laughs as he tries to get Atlas to stop her pacing.

Atlas has been restless all day, walking in circles around the living room or staring out of the window – just as if she knew that it’s Kosmo Day. 

So the second she hears Keith’s car pull into the driveway, she practically jumps from her spot by the window and out of the door. Kosmo can hardly blink before Altas tackles him, begging him to chase her around Shiro’s front yard with a wagging tail and her mouth wide open. 

Keith jumps out of his truck, eyeing both dogs on his way over to Shiro, who’s casually leaning in the doorframe. “Seems like Kosmo’s been missed,” he laughs.

‘Not just Kosmo,’ Shiro thinks, but stops himself from blurting it out loud. Instead, he says, “Yeah, she’s been expecting him all day,” smiling.   
  
With a whistle, Keith catches the dogs’ attention, both stopping at Keith’s feet and sitting down, expecting praise. 

“Well done,” Keith says as he takes out two treats, feeding one to each dog. 

And, wow, Shiro didn’t know he could be attracted to somebody’s whistling. 

They decide to take the scenic route on their walk that Sunday, leading through the forest behind Shiro’s house. 

When Shiro puts Atlas on a long leash the second they leave his garden, she whimpers, clearly not amused about her lost freedom. Even though their bond is already quite strong, Shiro doesn’t want to risk Atlas running off into the woods. He’s seen her pounce towards rabbits and birds a couple of times and the chance of her getting lost is just too risky for him. 

So long leash it is. 

As they make their way through the forest, the dogs walk ahead, sniffing at trees, sticking their noses into bushes and their paws into mud. Shiro groans at the thought of carrying Atlas into the shower when she emerges from a puddle that leaves her legs completely crusted in mud.

There are no distinct paths where they are walking, but they still know the woods by heart, know exactly where to turn to get to what Shiro loves to call ‘ _their spot_ ’: A secluded clearing where a tiny stream flows, wide and mellow, quiet except for the rippling of the water. 

Shiro loves the clearing. It’s peaceful, the stream a blue splash of color surrounded by high trees and meadows of green and yellow. Even after all these years, this is a spot nobody knows of except for the two of them – and their dogs.   
  
When they were kids, they loved to spend hours trying to find snails and small fishes in the stream or just laze around on the banks, surrounded by big rhododendron bushes. As the summer sun is merciless this year, the flowers are already way past their bloom– still they are beautiful to look at. 

The dogs immediately beeline for the water. 

Even though it’s early, the earth is already warm underneath their paws and the stream offers a welcome cooling sensation. 

“Wanna try to unleash her?” Keith says as they follow the dogs. They flop down right on the stony riverbank, watching Kosmo and Atlas.

“You think so?” Shiro turns to Keith, raising an eyebrow. 

“You’ve been doing recall training, haven’t you?” Keith leans back on his arms, his gaze never leaving the dogs.   
  
“Yeah,” Shiro says, nodding.

He’s been practicing recalls a lot. Every morning during their jogs, Shiro made Atlas come back to him. And over the past weeks, there really has been some progress. She’s still easily distracted, but in the end, she would come back to him most times when Shiro called her name.   
  
“I’m sure we can stop her,” Keith explains, leaning forward. “Plus, your bond is growing really strong. She should return to you if you call.” There’s the most reassuring smile on Keith’s lips and Shiro has to gulp. Keith is wearing confidence so well it makes his heart beat faster.   
  
“Okay, let’s try this!” Shiro grins back at Keith, calling Atlas to him. As she’s sitting down in front of him, his fingers wrap around the clasp of her leash, fidgeting for a second. 

Hesitating. 

“I’m doing it now!” He says more to himself than to Keith, but Keith’s emphasizing, _“You can do it,”_ is enough to make him free Atlas.

Shiro braces for Atlas running away in an instant. For Atlas jumping back, completely baffled by the loss of leash. 

She does exactly nothing.

She just continues sitting in front of Shiro, looking up at him with her big brown eyes and her tongue sticking out.

“Good girl,” Shiro says, completely baffled until Keith’s words reach him. “Allow her to leave,” he explains, his arms gesturing for Shiro to let Atlas go.  
  
“Ok, Atlas,” Shiro says. In an instant, the dog jumps up, trodding over to where Kosmo is waiting in the spring. 

He’s watching after her, still not quite believing his dog hasn’t run away yet. Maybe he’s not as bad with dogs as he thought.  
  
“Told you you’d be fine,” Keith says, next to him. When Shiro turns to him, Keith is bathed in a ray of sun, the water of the spring reflecting on his light skin. 

He’s beautiful.

With his long lashes and his defined arms peeking out from underneath his t-shirt. His dark hair curling around his ear and playing around his sinfully long neck and collarbone. 

Shiro has to resist the temptation to sink his teeth into the pristine skin. They are friends. Best friends. Nothing more. 

He has to clear his throat, trying to settle his mind.

“We still have a long way to go,” he says, his voice a little hoarse. “Kosmo and you share such a strong bond, I’m impressed.”  
  
“You think so?” Keith says, turning towards him. There’s a frown between his brows. 

Shiro nods. “Yeah, I hope Atlas and I will get there some day.”

Keith’s frown turns into a soft smile. One that makes Shiro’s chest feel way too warm for a summer day.   
  
“I’m sure you will,” he says, and Shiro swears there’s a pink shimmer around his nose when Keith averts his eyes, focusing back on the dogs.

Shiro takes his shoes off and dares to move his feet into the ice-cold water, sending a shiver down his whole body. 

Keith laughs at the face he’s making before he decides to do the same, his whole body shivering as his first toe makes contact with the water.   
  
It’s a sight to behold watching Keith’s face frown in disgust.   
  
It also gives Shiro the perfect excuse to stare at Keith’s feet. 

Which turns out to be a mistake. Because Keith really has beautiful feet.   
  
As he’s watching Keith submerge his toes in slow motion, Shiro’s sure there’s not one part of Keith that is not handsome.   
  
They sit like this for a while, enjoying the cold water flowing around their ankles. 

It’s a peaceful moment. Half a year ago, Shiro would have never thought it possible to be so at ease with himself again, just sitting in a meadow with two dogs and his best friend, doing nothing but enjoying a slow summer day. 

The dogs are splashing around in the water, as if they were trying to catch some of the tiny fish swimming around. 

It’s the cutest sight. 

Nudging his foot softly against Keith’s, Shiro breaks the silence.

“How did you find Kosmo? You said something about the motorway?”   
  
“Yeah. You up for some sad hours?” Keith sits up, bending forward and resting his elbows on his legs.   
  
“Always.” Shiro’s foot finds Keith’s again, another soft nudge. Only this time, he lets it linger, touching Keith’s skin.   
  
“After high school, I left for college,” Keith starts, his eyes fixed on the water in front of him. ”The other end of the country seemed barely far enough to leave this town behind forever. You know how it is.” 

Shiro just huffs, nodding along. He couldn't wait to leave the tiny town with no perspectives and no future. In retrospect it’s bittersweet how he’s back here, relishing the peace and quiet this town has to offer him now.   
  
“Turns out college just isn’t for me. Two semesters in and I just… I don’t know, I had a really hard time keeping up, and hardly made any friends. Failed some classes and hid in my dorm room.” Shiro notices Keith shrug, as he’s slumping his shoulders, turning his head away from him. 

His hand finds Keith's shoulder, squeezing lightly.   
  
“Keith, I’m sorry, I...”

But Keith only shakes his head.  
  
“It was my own fault, no need to be sorry. My only luck was my roommate and his sister, two absolute space nerds who made it their personal mission to get me through college. Every bad grade was like an offence to their brains so they made me sit through a lot of private lessons.” Even Keith’s voice lights up as he talks about his friends at university.

“I’m glad to hear that.” It’s nice to hear that Keith actually managed to make friends, to get a bit out of his shell. Shiro has noticed Keith’s friendship with Hunk, something that Shiro would’ve never seen coming ten years ago – Young Keith had a hard time opening up to anyone who wasn’t Shiro or the dogs.   
  
“Yeah, Matt and Pidge were amazing.” There’s a smile on Keith’s lips as he turns towards Shiro. Where his hand is still pressing against Keith’s shoulder, Shiro can feel his muscles relax as Keith continues.

“So with my degree in hand, I had no idea what to do. I applied for jobs, but got turned down everytime. It was frustrating. While Pidge and Matt found work very easily, I tried to get by working in a repair shop while jumping between job interviews.” As he speaks Keith’s voice turns bitter. And Shiro relates a little too much to his words. Searching for a job after college had been a demeaning experience, even with his good grades. People seemed to come with a lot of prejudice for applicants with pre-existing conditions.  
  
“And then my Mom had an accident and I just decided to come home.” Keith continues, puzzling Shiro. 

“An accident?” Shiro asks. He notices how Keith’s fingers tighten around the fabric of his shorts.   
  
“Yeah, one of the dogs ran away in a stormy night and she chased her into the woods. The dog was frightened by the thunderstorm, so she was scratching and biting when Mom tried to hold her. Mom was so distracted she didn’t see where she was going – so she slipped and fell down a cliff, breaking a leg in the progress. Luckily, my uncle ran after her and found her. She couldn’t walk for months.” 

Shiro can’t help but mutter, “Ouch.” 

  
His grandparents never told him about Krolia’s incident. But then again their calls of the past years merely consisted of talking about Shiro’s life, asking about their health and then talking about food and weather. Now Shiro thinks about it, his grandma had carefully avoided talking about anything Keith related.

“Ouch indeed. I think her ego took the worst blow,” Keith says, his lips curling upwards. Still, Shiro noticed the strain in his voice. Though Keith tries to play it cool, Shiro can see the stress Krolia’s accident put him under.   
  
“She couldn’t do much around the house, so I took care of the shelter. Also started cleaning through the office and turned a lot of paperwork into digital versions to get rid of the towers of folders. You can imagine what the office looked like when I arrived.”

Shiro laughs. Krolia had never been a fan of paperwork but mixed with a broken leg… he imagines the office drowning in towers of folders and loose papers. 

“When she got better, there was nothing much left for me to do. I didn’t want to go in case she got sick again. And applying for jobs was a catastrophe anyway. So I fell into a…” There’s a short pause, Keith’s teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

He exhales before he continues.

“Let’s call it a very dark place.” 

Shiro’s hand gently squeezes Keith’s shoulder another time. His heart hurts at the thought of Keith going through hard times on his own. Whenever he thought about Keith over the past years, he imagined him having the best time, an amazing and fulfilling job and a caring partner. Not going through one deep hit after the other. 

Because, in Shiro’s mind, Keith deserves the world.

Keith’s eyes find the sky as he continues.   
  
“I remembered our amazing plans, how we always dreamed of making it to the stars. I didn’t even make it out of this town. While, of course, everyone in town who stopped by to talk with Mom asked about my degree, my plans, any potential wife. It was... suffocating.”

Keith’s words feel like a punch to his stomach, hitting too close to home.

“So I just took the truck and left. Drove around for a few hours without a destination. Somewhere along the way, my truck died, leaving me with a mental breakdown at a rest stop in the middle of nowhere,” Keith says, lowering his head again, his eyes searching for the dogs who by now have settled on the riverbank opposite them, their fur drying in the sun. 

“I called Mom and Uncle Antok to pick me up. While I sat there waiting, munching on the world’s saddest roadhouse sandwich, I heard a low whine. Apparently, the sandwich had attracted Kosmo. He could not have been older than a year, but he didn’t have a collar, a name tag, anything. His hair looked shabby and it was full of mud and dust. And he was very hungry. He ate most of my sandwich and in return allowed me to pet him. He sat with me for the hours it took my Mom and Uncle Antok to show up to tow my truck. And when he didn’t make a move to leave when we were done, I decided to take him with me.”   
  
Shiro’s heart sings at the thought of puppy Kosmo trusting Keith so much he approached him at a rest stop. “And look at him now. He’s one of the proudest dogs I know. You really saved him,” Shiro says, a smile on his lips   
  
Keith turns towards Shiro, returning his smile. “I sometimes like to think we saved each other.”

It’s not fair how Keith has been through so much, Shiro thinks. But if there was someone deserving of Kosmo's love, it was Keith. He wants to tell him, but is interrupted when Kosmo trots over, shaking out his fur and bathing Shiro and Keith in droplets of water.  
  
Keith laughs, clear and loud. It’s the most beautiful sound. 

“Hey boy, yeah, we were talking about you,” Keith says as Kosmo rests his snout on Keith's lap. 

Keith’s fingers carefully graze over Kosmo’s nose, following the bow up to his forehead before burying in the soft fur behind Kosmo’s ears. He bends town to press a kiss to Kosmo’s head, delving his nose into the fur.  
  
“You really saved me, huh?” Shiro can hear Keith whisper. It’s such a sweet sight, seeing the love between Keith and his dog. He doesn’t want to disturb them.

What interrupts the moment in the end is Kosmo, shuffling backwards and out of Keith’s grip. Instead, the dog snaps after Keith’s shirt, tugging at the fabric with his teeth.   
  
“What do you…” Keith never finishes. Instead, Kosmo tugs with more force, pulling Keith from where he’s sitting – sending him flying into the cold water in front of him.

“Kosmo!” Keith yells as he tries to stand up, slipping on the wet rock and falling forward so that he lands in the water. He hurries to his knees, ending up on all fours in the water. “Bad dog,” he groans.  
  
Shiro's laughter is joined by Kosmo’s happy barking.   
  
“You!” Keith turns his head, hissing at Shiro, “Don’t laugh! It’s damn cold!” 

It only makes Shiro laugh louder. 

Growling at his dog, Keith carefully stands up. His clothes are fully wet – and Shiro’s laughter dies in his throat. Because Keith’s t-shirt is now plastered to his torso, perfectly outlining his slim waist and curling around Keith’s abs. The water definitely leaves nothing to Shiro’s imagination. 

And he gulps. 

There’s a heat in Shiro’s cheeks, and a fire in his veins. And, oooh, Shiro wishes the cold water around his ankles could do anything against the heat which starts to pool between his legs at the sight of soaked Keith. He knows it’s a bad thing to be so flustered by Keith’s sight. But Keith is not just kind and loves dogs, he’s handsome and hot. 

And Shiro’s just a simple man. 

In an attempt to cool his thoughts, Shiro lets his eyes wander up, stopping at Keith’s face.

It’s a mistake, he notices in an instant. Because there are drops falling down Keith’s hair and landing onto his lips. Shiro never wished to be a single drop of water, touching Keith’s lips so lightly. 

Yeah, he’s definitely way too deep into his crush on Keith, Shiro notices, when Keith lifts his hands, his fingers raking through his hair in an attempt to get the wetness from his face. And, oof, when Keith was hot with bangs, Keith without bangs… Shiro’s definitely not proud of the sound that leaves his mouth at the sight.   
  
It catches Keith’s attention and Keith turns towards Shiro, a grin on his lips a bit too sly for Shiro’s liking. Keith steps closer to Shiro, his grin growing with every inch he’s coming closer.

Shiro can only mutter, “No,” before Keith is close enough, shaking his head. It’s so similar to Kosmo’s earlier move, cold drops of water raining down on Shiro and making him yelp.   
  
He tries to crawl backwards, fleeing from Keith’s reach – but is stopped by a cold and wet feeling against his arm. Shiro turns to his left to see Kosmo standing next to him, barking innocently before his nose nudges against his shoulder, a forceful gesture to get Shiro towards the water.

He’s happy to oblige. 

“Fine,” Shiro says, standing up and wading towards Keith, the water ice-cold around his ankles. He’s welcomed by Keith’s grin.

“Hey oldtimer,” Keith says.   
  
Up close, Keith looks even more devastating. Shiro isn’t sure what’s worse: thinking he can count Keith’s abs through the wet fabric clinging to Keith’s body – or Keith deciding his shirt is way too wet anyway – and pulling it over his head in one swift move, throwing it towards the riverbank behind Shiro.

Keith is way too close and way too handsome. It really does nothing to slow Shiro’s pulse or make the heat in his cheeks cool down. 

‘Think cold thoughts,’ Shiro tells himself. 

Eventually, the cold thoughts come. In the form of Keith bending forward and moving his hands into the water, cursing about the temperature before he moves his hands forwards – and splashes water into Shiro’s direction.

“Hey!” Shiro yells, trying to shield his face from the water, but it’s no use – he’s wet in a matter of seconds. So Shiro gets rid of his shirt as well – it’s already drenched anyway. He throws it to join Keith’s shirt at the riverbank before he wades towards Keith.   
  
Keith’s sly grin only grows bigger, as he bends down again to fill his hands with water.

With a loud splash, it hits Shiro in the face.

Shiro’s mouth curls in disgust as he feels the water drop off the white floof of his hair. “That’s not fair,” he says, sending a small splash of water flying towards Keith  
  
“Who said I was playing fair?” Keith says, jumping out of line to dodge the water. 

As he heads towards Keith, a sly grin sneaks onto Shiro’s lips.

“Bring it on.”  
  
*   
  
Drenched to the bone and out of breath from laughing and yelling, they decide to return for the day, the mid-day sun too merciless for both their dogs anyway.

Their clothes dry too fast and it takes only a couple of minutes for Shiro’s skin to miss the cold wetness the river offered them. 

Atlas trods happily after Kosmo, even without her leash. Shiro takes it as a good sign she doesn’t run away.

As they make their way back, Shiro turns towards Keith, remembering where they left off earlier.  
  
“Do you feel better now?” 

“Huh?” Keith turns towards him, crooking his head to the side.

“You said you felt like you don’t belong here. Has it changed?” Shiro asks. He can see how Keith’s features soften, his lips curving upwards a bit, as he answers.

“Yeah. Kosmo made me realize how much I love dogs and training them. He was the first dog I trained and Mom was so excited word got around, and suddenly I was facing five old ladies with their problematic bulldogs. That was an adventure.”

“I can imagine,” Shiro chuckles. Growing up with his grandparents taught him more than he wanted about the grannies in town. The image of introvert Keith trying to talk against a group of old chattering ladies is just too vivid in his mind.   
  
“But yeah, I feel better now. There are always good days and bad ones. But I think I found my place in this town.”   
  
“I’m glad to hear that. I really am,” Shiro says. It feels good to smile with Keith like that. Nearly as if the past ten years never happened.   
  
“There’s only one downside,” Keith sighs, suddenly. “The girlfriend rumors won’t stop.”   
  
Shiro laughs his head back, laughing. “Good old town never changes, does it?”   
  
“No, I’m afraid not. Kosmo, no!” Keith says with a grin, following his wolf who’s suddenly very interested in a patch of weeds. He’s nuzzling against the grass, pawing at the ground. As if he’s digging for a treasure. 

Shiro shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants as he continues. It takes more courage than he thought it would – it’s such a stupid, irrelevant thing anyway.

“So, no partner in sight?” 

And no, Shiro tells himself, no need to blush. No need for his cheeks to heat like that. It’s perfectly normal to be interested in your best friend’s love life. No ulterior motives here.

Still, his heart sings as Keith says, “No.“  
  
There’s a growl in his voice and for a split second, Shiro is not sure if he’s hit a sore spot. But it’s the second that Kosmo suddenly flops down to the ground, frantically rubbing his back against the ground, tongue hanging out as he’s barking happily. 

Atlas crooks her head to the side, her ears perking up in interest. 

“Kosmo,” Keith growls as he’s pacing towards his dog, stopping in front of him. 

Keith’s hand finds his temple as he’s shaking his head. With a sigh, he turns to Shiro, pointing at his dog. “My one and only love is currently rolling in duck poop. Kosmo, no.” 

He bends down to grab Kosmo by his collar, yanking him upwards.

“He fools you into believing he’s the most well-behaved dog. Until he finds duck poop. Then it’s over.”

Shiro smiles sympathetically as he watches Keith pick up Kosmo, walking him away from the spot in the grass.

“Yeah, perfectly innocent, huh? Let’s see how much you enjoy having to bath once we’re home,” he says, pointing his finger at Kosmo. Immediately, the dog lowers his ears and his tail droops down. “You know I won’t buy that. Come on now.”

With a flick of his hand, Keith motions Kosmo to follow him as he walks ahead. Kosmo is happy to oblige, his tail coming back up and wagging happily again in a matter of seconds.

Atlas runs after them and Shiro has to speed up his steps to keep up with the group. 

“How about you?” Keith says as Shiro catches up with them. 

“Me?”   
  
“Yeah. How’s your heartbreak?”   
  
_Oh! Right!_   
  
They’d been talking about Keith’s love life before Kosmo decided to coat himself in dirt. And just like Shiro asking Keith, Shiro can’t read too much into his question, just his friend being concerned.   
  
“I’m past the ice cream phase,” Shiro jokes. 

And Keith laughs, grinning at him. “A shame. I’d be in the mood for ice cream.”  
  
“Well, if you insist…” Shiro starts. He never finishes, because they hear a loud noise in the distance, making them stop in their tracks. Kosmo bares his teeth, growling as he ducks down – but Shiro has no time to pay attention to Kosmo’s deep growling. Atlas’s ears flop down, her tail between her legs. In an instant, she runs off. 

“Atlas!” Shiro yells, running after her. It’s a wild chase through the woods, Shiro trying hard not to trip over sticks or vines, his eyes focused on the brown spot ahead of him. It’s no use, she’s way faster than him, but still he tries. Somewhere behind him, he hears Keith’s voice, shouting after him, but it’s all a blur as Shiro tries his best to follow after his dog.

His lungs are burning when he loses sight of her. 

Damn, he knew he should have put the leash back on.   
  
“No. No, no no,” is the only thing in his mind.   
  
His pulse is rushing. His head is spinning. He tries to make sense of his surroundings but fails. 

His metal hand leaves a dent in the bark of the tree closest to him as Shiro lets out his frustration, a loud groan leaving his mouth.

He’s lost sight of his dog. Has no idea where she is. 

Every breath sets his chest on fire.  
  
And he can’t hear Keith’s voice anymore.

_Keith._

_Where is Keith?_

_Where is..._

“Shiro.” 

There are hands on his shoulders and Shiro’s world stops spinning.

He looks into the most beautiful purple eyes. 

Keith is here, encompassing him. 

Pulling him back.

It’s grounding.  
  
“Breathe with me, Shiro,” Keith says. 

And it’s getting easier to breathe.

The pulse in his ears is ebbing away. 

The fire in his chest dies down.

“We’ll find her.” Keith’s voice in his ears is honest, defined.  
  
Shiro believes him.

One of Keith’s hands leaves his shoulder, his palm outstretched towards Shiro.   
  
An offer.   
  
And just when Shiro takes it, Kosmo barks.   
  
The dog surges ahead and Shiro has a hard time following him, but Keith’s hand in his helps him to focus. 

Keith’s fingers never leave his, not even when Kosmo comes to a stop and they finally catch up with him.

What they see before him is a battlefield.  
  
In the biggest puddle of mud and dirt, Atlas is splayed out on her back, wallowing in the filth like it’s a luxurious bath. She looks incredibly happy.

“Oh no.” Keith groans next to him as Shiro walks over to his dog.

He stops in front of Atlas, sinking down onto his knees. 

“Atlas,” he breathes out.

He doesn’t care about the dirt, doesn’t care about the mud or the smell, nor about Atlas’s wet tongue licking over his face.   
  
Because wrapping his dog in his arms brings tears of joy to Shiro’s eyes.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith mentions a book about the behavioral psychology of dogs. it's called "The other end of the leash" by Patricia B. McConnell and I can highly recommend it!


	3. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: At the end of this chapter there's a scene in which a dog gives birth. it's not explicitly described, but if you want to skip it:  
> The scene starts with "“Oh bless you for coming, Shiro!”" and ends with "It’s later, way later..."

*

Fall paints the valley in shades of red.

The mountains are speckled with reds and yellows and the occasional green. The air is filled with the sound of crushing leaves with every step. Most mornings, the forest is covered in a thick layer of fog, settling beautifully around the yellow hues of the fallen leaves. 

On each of their morning jogs, Shiro is mesmerized. How could he ever have decided to move away from this beautiful place? He keeps thinking, taking in the beautiful sight alongside the quiet the fog brings.   
  
Just as fall brings sleepy mornings to the valley, it brings busy afternoons to the town. Days getting shorter means people rushing through the streets, trying to finish their daily business before it gets dark or starts to rain.

Rain.

Rain brings another challenge to Shiro’s life as a not-so-brand-new dog parent. While long summer days made it easy to spend early mornings in the woods with his dog, fall presses Shiro to go running while it’s still dark. And very wet. 

The start of October is especially rainy, with two weeks of continuous downpours. Shiro finds himself more than once sitting next to Atlas at the big living room window, staring outside, longing to go on a long run.

The rain brings two challenges. 

The first is something Shiro finds out the hard way after pulling Atlas from a puddle of mud in the middle of summer: If there’s one thing Atlas hates, it’s taking a bath. 

So much, in fact, that after the first two times Shiro lured her into the bathroom before locking her in the shower stall with him, Atlas stopped voluntarily entering any bathroom in the house. Since then, Shiro has had to carry her to the shower, having to endure seventy pounds of whining dog wriggling in his arms. Needless to say, it’s not a nice experience for both dog and human alike. 

Once in the shower, she doesn't move a lot, enduring the spray of warm water with her tail tucked between her legs and her ears pressed to her head. Also, she’s okay with the blow dryer, patiently standing while Shiro circles around her to dry her many layers of fur.

And still, the second Shiro opens the bathroom door, Atlas runs out and avoids getting anywhere near the bathroom again for the next couple of hours.

So even though Atlas is way softer and smells way better after showering, Shiro and Atlas alike dread the moment she gets dirty.

Unfortunately for Shiro and for Atlas, rainy days and stormy nights mean wet ground and puddles in the woods. And Atlas ends up coated in mud at least once a week. 

The valley may look beautiful in reds and yellows, and the morning fog brings something sleep-drunken to their town – but Shiro wishes for nothing more than for spring to come back anytime Atlas runs head first into an extra deep puddle of mud. 

The second challenge fall brings is making Atlas tired. Because, while Atlas is a very active dog, she hates nothing more than to go out when it’s raining. Shiro can hardly walk her two steps out the door before she simply stops, sitting down and not moving anymore. While this proves a challenge for her daily walks, Shiro also has to look for alternatives for Altas to work off her energy. 

Lucky for him, Keith offers to take him shopping, loading his shopping cart with rope toys and puzzle games while chatting with Romelle.  
  
“You want one that makes Atlas work. She easily gets bored once she knows the mechanics,” Keith explains, scanning the toy display with his eyes.   
  
“And keep her motivated. Lot of people think it’s fine to fill the snuffle mat with treats and leave the dog alone for an hour,” Romelle adds. She takes a few items from the display, holding them up, waiting for Keith’s judgement. He either nods, sending the toys to Shiro’s shopping cart, or shakes his head, making Romelle sigh and hang the toys back.   
  
“This is the main reason dogs lose motivation to play – and the owners come to me, complaining that their dogs don’t like to play,” Keith adds. “Instead, you should take your time, say an hour or so, to actually sit down and play with Atlas. Really play. Like refill her snuffle mat or hide snacks in your living room, motivating her to search for them. Anything that makes Atlas want to play.”   
  
Shiro nods along, eyeing the basket. There’s no way he’ll get all the tools Keith and Romelle picked out – she can’t possibly play with all of them. But he decides to settle for the ones Keith liked the most. 

Keith’s judgment when it comes to dogs has always been good so far, so Shiro decides to trust him with toys for his dog, too. 

After the first stressful months, Atlas’s training has finally started to pay off. She listens way better to his commands, knowing _sit, down, stay and come_ by heart, waiting patiently for Shiro’s okay before eating her food or crossing a street. Her barking also got better, allowing Shiro to take her into town with him without her barking at people with plastic bags. And their biggest sorrow, calling Atlas back, works way better. By now, Shiro has a good idea which treats Atlas prefers – and training to call her back short-distance works best when Atlas is rewarded with her favourite snacks. 

So even though Shiro still puts Atlas on a hands-free running leash for their runs and on a long leash for their outings with Keith and Kosmo, Shiro can actually see the progress she makes. And it’s motivating him to keep training with Keith.

The one thing which still proves a challenge is leaving Atlas alone at home. She’s become so used to Shiro being at home, that she would whine and howl when Shiro leaves her alone for a few minutes. 

Keith’s told him more than once what he should do: start small, leaving Atlas alone for a couple of seconds at first and once she’s not barking anymore, leave again, each time prolonging the time he’s not at home. Keith has even given him a camera with which he could talk to Atlas and give her treats – but the camera would only work if Shiro actually left the house. With the rainy season upon them, Shiro’s interest in leaving his house without his dog for more than a couple of minutes is close to zero. 

Each time Keith asks about their progress with the matter, Shiro only smiles apologetically, scratching his face. “It’s okay, it’s a problem for future Shiro,” Keith tells him, over and over again. “You don’t need her to stay alone at home at the moment, so you should focus on other things. Look how far you’ve come so far.” 

Keith’s reassuring smile is so beautiful Shiro wants to kiss it from his lips.

Which he wouldn’t. 

He just can’t. 

Because Shiro just doesn’t want to ruin their friendship. Again. 

Six months after appearing back on Keith’s doorstep, Shiro hardly feels like ten years passed without seeing each other. If it’s taking their dogs for a walk, sharing Krolia’s breakfast on a Sunday morning before heading into the woods or shopping for dog toys... So often Shiro catches his thoughts, thinking it’s been like this forever. 

Their casual banter and the time they spend together does something else to Shiro: he can feel his crush on Keith sneaking back into his veins. Can feel his pulse rushing quicker whenever Keith is smiling at him. Can feel his palms sweat on his way to visit Keith. 

Shiro wishes he could simply bend over and put a kiss on Keith’s lips whenever he appears on his doorstep, mesmerizing in his flannels with his rolled-up sleeves. Wishes he could hold Keith’s hand whenever they are walking their dogs. Wishes he could pull Keith into a hug and climb him like a tree every time Keith manhandles Kosmo or looks casually devastating explaining something during dog training, radiating confidence.   
  
And more than once Shiro wakes up to sticky sheets and the urge to take a cold shower. That’s another thing about having a dog: Taking matters into his own hands proves difficult with Atlas curious about every noise Shiro makes in bed, trotting over and demanding breakfast once she notices Shiro’s awake. Causing Shiro to walk her out of the room and closing the door behind him to get some _privacy_. 

Shiro knows having inappropriate dreams about Keith at least once a week does nothing to fight this crush he harbors for Keith. In fact, Shiro has long admitted defeat in his quest to simply see Keith as a friend.

Keith is too kind, too good, and too handsome and Shiro is a simple man. 

And the crush he harbors is not just a crush.

Shiro is utterly, completely and ridiculously in love with Keith.   
  
And since Keith will never return his feelings, Shiro does the only thing he can: keep his feelings hidden and turn them into _selfless_ support for his best friend. 

When that leaves him ogling Keith’s backside every now and then, or staring at his exposed forearms just like now when Keith is presenting leashes to him. Shiro has no idea why Keith is holding up leashes. 

The only thing that matters is how good Keith looks in the green flannel and the red puffy vest and wow, Shiro really has a thing for this whole mountain man vibe Keith gives off. Or simply a thing for Keith. 

In anything. 

Or without anything. 

He’s not really picky, to be honest. 

“..think, Shiro?”   
  
It’s Keith’s voice which pulls Shiro from his thoughts. 

And in an instant, his eyes flicker from Keith’s forearms to the dog leash in Keith’s hands to his face. 

Judging from the warm tingle in his cheeks, Shiro’s sure his face is bright red. 

Perfectly caught, Shiro.exe has stopped working. 

Keith looks back at him, eyes wide and expectant. And from over his shoulder, Romelle smirks. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says before turning and heading back to the front of the shop.  
  
Shiro has no idea how it’s even possible, but his cheeks _burn_. He wishes for a black hole to open up underneath him, swallowing him on the spot. 

It’s Keith who saves him from melting into a puddle of embarrassment, eventually. “I asked which leash you’d prefer. Purple or red?” He says, holding up two leashes in the respective colors.   
  
“Oh,” Shiro answers. If Keith notices his disarray, he’s too nice to say something. So Shiro’s trying his best to gulp and focus on the leashes in Keith’s hands.

He’s holding up two lovely bands, braided cords with brown leather accents and golden snap hooks. Both are way nicer than the black one Shiro’s brought during his first visit at Romelle’s, a simple black rope that’s been definitely sufficient so far. But looking at the leashes in Keith’s hands, Shiro can already imagine how nice they’ll look on Atlas. 

“The red one,” he says, after a second.   
  
“Yeah, I’m sure it will look good with Atlas’s fur,” Keith answers, handing the red leash to Shiro. It feels nice in his hands, the material soft between his fingers, the leash not too heavy. Shiro knows immediately why Keith prefers this brand. 

Instead of hanging the purple cord back to the shelf, Keith puts it into his own cart next to several bags of dog food and a couple of treats for the Rescue. Shiro is always surprised to see how much food twenty dogs could devour in a short amount of time. 

“I think I’ll take the purple one,” Keith says. With a nod, he gestures to Shiro to follow him to the checkout, letting Romelle ring up their purchases. There’s still a sly grin still on her lips and Shiro tries his best to avoid her eyes. 

In the parking lot, Shiro opens the trunk of his car. Kosmo immediately jumps out. Atlas’s head peaks out of the trunk, watching Kosmo trot towards Keith’s truck. But she stays curled in Shiro’s trunk, her tail wagging happily as Shiro greets her. 

“I got you a lot of toys,” Shiro explains to his dog as he stows his purchases away. “And a lovely leash. Hope you’ll like it.”   
  
Atlas just turns her head to the side, clearly not amused about having to share her space in the trunk with dog toys. So Shiro picks her up and sets her to the ground, grabbing her leash as he closes his trunk, placing Atlas in his passenger seat instead. 

As he‘s circling his car to get to the driver’s seat, Shiro’s faced with Keith opening his passenger seat. He’s gesturing for Kosmo to jump up, but the dog sits patiently next to him, staring at Shiro instead. 

There’s a shiver running down his spine from the way Kosmo’s watching him. Just as if Kosmo waits for him to do something. Something crazy like inviting Keith for a coffee maybe. A coffee date to be precise. Which Shiro would love to do. 

He’s actually thought about it a lot. 

A date with Keith would be lovely. An actual date, not a casual outing with their dogs. 

He would love to take him on a date to Hunk’s restaurant, share a pizza and a bottle of wine with their feet touching underneath the table. He would walk Keith home, would place his jacket around Keith’s shoulders when it gets too cold. He would hold his hand and pull him close, press his lips against Keith’s hair and tell him how beautiful he is. And once they’re home, he would say his goodbye to Keith, staring him in the eyes to look for permission to kiss him good night. 

Kissing Keith sounds like the best thing on Earth.

But Shiro never gets to invite Keith out to a date. 

Because, every time he tries to say anything, the words die on his lips. 

Just like now. Because Keith lifts his hand and waves goodbye and just like that, Shiro misses the perfect second again. 

“See you on Sunday?” Keith says, a smile on his lips.  
  
“Yeah, Sunday,” Shiro answers. Before he can wave goodbye, Kosmo nudges him in the side. He huffs loudly before he jumps into Keith’s truck.

Shiro blinks. 

Is it just Shiro or was Komso actually disappointed Shiro is too shy to ask Keith out for a coffee? 

Keith waves at him as he drives away and Shiro blinks again. 

Nah. 

He’s sure it’s just his imagination.   
  
*   
  
Fall also brings a new job for Shiro. 

It’s nothing special, mostly filling some Excel sheets and evaluating reports for an NGO, but he can do something good while working from home. And he can set his own hours, which gives him a lot of room for Atlas.

With the money his grandparents left him and his savings, he has no problems getting by for a few months now that he doesn’t have to pay rent for an uptown apartment in a popular city anymore. Still, he’s grateful to have something to do during the week. He can only rearrange the house so often.

In the long run, he knows he has to look for a job in town. His savings won’t last him forever and he doesn’t want to have a long commute home in case anything’s wrong with his dog. But until Atlas can be left alone for at least a few hours, it’s useless to start searching for a job. He’s also not sure which jobs their small town with two restaurants, three cafés and a bookshop can offer an Astrophysics major. 

So getting paid for sitting at home and answering boring emails and filling out charts while he’s training with Atlas during his breaks seems a good compromise to him for now.

On days he feels too cooped up, Shiro loves to grab his laptop and Atlas and drive into town. He can basically work anywhere there’s wifi and an outlet for his laptop, so he finds himself in the tiny old café hidden in a back alley at least once a week. 

It’s a bit vintage and rustic, just as dusty as Shiro remembers it, with dark red brick walls adorned with big bookshelves. Some climbing plants hanging from the shelves are a new addition to the interior, giving the café a more homey feeling. 

Shiro still remembers long autumn afternoons spent at the café together with Keith when they were younger, studying for upcoming tests or simply searching for a place where their families couldn’t bother them.

They loved the previous owner, an old and cheerful man with a white a flowy beard who used to make the best hot cocoa in a fifty-mile radius. Shiro was sad to hear he’d passed away while Shiro was gone, but his daughter had taken over the business, renaming the café _‘The White Lion’_ and adding climbing plants and pink flowers to the interior. Shiro learned the flowers were called Juniberries the same day Allura introduced herself. 

“Oh, I grew up in England,” she explained with her thick accent and a smile when Shiro wondered why he couldn’t remember her face from school. 

Her husband, as it turned out, is an old classmate of Keith’s. Even after ten years, the first thing Shiro thinks of when he thinks of Lance is his wide grin and his missing baby teeth – but, to be fair, Shiro has known Lance since elementary school. There never were a lot of children in town, so Shiro had seen him once or twice in elementary school and heard hazardous stories from Keith about Lance frightening the whole school with his water guns one summer.   
  
So when Shiro visited The White Lion together with Keith for the first time in ten years, Shiro was not only surprised to meet Allura with her kind smile and her white and flowing hair, but also Lance. A ten years older Lance who has grown into his long limbs and his edgy humor, who is way more settled and accommodating than Shiro remembered. And quieter. Definitely way quieter. 

Shiro still remembers Lance beaming at him when he came over to take their order, the grin on his face wide ( this time without missing baby teeth), saying “Heeeey Shiro, long time no see!” Keith sighed, burying his face in his hand, groaning something Lance’s name. But Lance remained unimpressed by Keith’s grunting, rambling on. 

Well, maybe not _that_ much quieter. 

“Nice of you to bless this town with your presence. Hey, have you met my wife?” With his fingers imitating guns, Lance pointed at Allura who came over to introduce herself to Shiro. 

“I still have no idea how he managed to marry her,” Keith whispered to Shiro later, when they had a second to breathe as Lance and Allura had to help another customer. “But I’m happy for him.” 

Allura had the same calm and kind energy as her father, and apparently a plan to run the business similar to her father together with her husband. So even after ten years, the café still is one of Shiro’s favourite places to visit.

Just like today, when he’s sick of working from home and the rain keeps lashing against his window. A perfect excuse to long for a warm tea and good company. 

He has some errands to run in the city anyway, and since The White Lion doesn’t have a no-dogs policy, Shiro loves to combine trips to the city with spending half a day at the café with Atlas, sipping tea and answering boring emails with Atlas snoring at his feet. At least he can do so with a calming coffee house playlist in the background and Allura and her husband coming over to chat now and then.

As Shiro is typing away on his laptop, softly nudging Atlas with his feet, he can hear the sound of rain whipping against the window behind him. The sky is dark and grey and he’s grateful Lance has started a fire in the fireplace. The soft cracks of the flames fill the air, accompanied by the smell of smoked wood. 

“Looking radiant as ever,” Shiro says to Allura. She’s approaching with a kind smile on her lips, carrying a new mug filled with steaming tea. She places the mug in front of Shiro and wipes her hands on her pink apron, just when the door chimes open. 

She turns to greet the new customer.

“Oh, hello Keith,” Shiro hears her say – and his head jerks up.   
  
Keith’s hair is a wet mess, that’s the first thing Shiro notices. His jacket is soaked, hanging from his shoulders. There’s a frown on his face as he groans, “A big coffee, but please make it strong,” at Lance who’s working at the counter. He then proceeds to roam the room with his eyes, stopping when he spots Shiro. 

Shiro raises his hand in a tiny wave, closing the laptop in front of him as Keith moves over, cursing as he pulls off his jacket. “I’m sorry Allura, don’t want to flood everything.”  
  
“Shhh, it’s okay, give it to me,” Allura says, reaching for his jacket before she drapes it over a chair she shoves close to the fireplace. 

“You okay?” Shiro asks, offering his napkin as Keith flops down next to him. Atlas startles from the sudden movement but doesn’t make a sound. Instead, she places her head back between her paws.   
  
“Yeah, it’s just.. a lot,” Keith says, taking the napkin Shiro offered and dabbing his forehead. The tissue’s soaked in an instant, but it seems to help at least a bit.   
  
“We have this pregnant dog over at the shelter and Mom is driving me crazy. ‘We need this, we need that!’” Keith sighs, his shoulders slumping down. “It’s the first time we’re helping deliver puppies and Mom is, well... Mom.”   
  
“She wants to do everything perfectly, right?” Shiro asks, offering a sympathetic smile. The picture of Krolia driving Keith to hell comes to his mind. It’s not hard to imagine. 

“Yeah. She’s turning the whole living room into a whelping box. Remember her _‘No dog in the house’_ policy? Gone, just like that.” Keith gestures with his hand in the air before his fingers find his temple again. “I just need a break and a coffee.”   
  
“There you go.” Just that second, Lance approaches their table, smiling as he puts down an extra-large to-go coffee cup in front of Keith. 

“So, your Mom is going big with the Puppies of Marmora business, huh?” he asks.

Keith just takes the cup in his hands, lifting it to his lips. “The dog was pregnant when someone dropped her off in a box by our fence. It happens around once a year, but we don’t have enough room for a whelping box in the kennel house. Mom usually lets my uncles take care of the pregnant dogs.” Keith takes a big sip from his to-go cup, his hands fidgeting with the lid as he leans back in his chair.   
  
”Only this time they already have a pregnant dog to take care of. So there’s nobody else to do this.” 

And Lance whistles, clearly impressed. 

“Be glad it’s only puppies, man. My Mom won’t shut up about babies. ‘Lance, you’ve already been married for a year, when do I get grandchildren?’ She’s saying _children._ As in. _One isn’t enough,_ ” Lance explains, gesturing wildly with a tray in his hand. 

Shiro chuckles at Lance’s impersonation of his mother, while Keith next to him only shakes his head. “Mom already has the shelter dogs. And Kosmo,” he grumbles. “That’s all the grandchildren she’ll get.” 

“Atlas agrees,” Shiro joins, a smile on his lips. “She loves her life as a single child and is sure Kosmo feels the same.” 

“What a shame for this town. Aren’t you two like… the most eligible bachelors in a fifty-mile perimeter or something?” As he continues dramatically gesturing with his tray in hand, the grin on Lance’s face is smug. Shiro is sure there’s a twinkle in his eyes.   
  
“Oh shut up, Lance,” Keith groans. He lifts his cup to his lips again, drowning the remains of his coffee in one go. In the faint firelight, Shiro sees the red shimmer around his cheeks. Could that be a blush on Keith’s face? 

“Thank you, I need to go. Mom will kill me. I was supposed to be back with new towels...” Keith checks the clock on his phone as he stands up. “Ten minutes ago.”

“Take care, Keith.” Shiro smiles, lifting his hand to wave Keith’s goodbye. 

Keith turns towards Shiro, raising his hand for a two-finger salute. “See you on Sunday?” 

“See you on Sunday.” And with that, Keith leaves the café, taking his jacket on his way out. 

Shiro is sure he looks after him even when Keith is gone for a couple of seconds already. 

“So Shiro,” Lance’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “Miss the big city life already?”

As he watches after Keith, thinking about the past months back home, his new house and his dog and all the time spent with Keith, the answer is as easy as breathing.   
  
Shiro shakes his head.   
  
Never once during the past months has he regretted moving back.   
  
He deleted his ex’s number from his phone long ago. He’s never spared a second thought about his sterile apartment back in the city. 

And where a picture of his ex-boyfriend had decorated the background of his phone only half a year ago, Shiro is now greeted by Keith and two big, fluffy dogs smiling back at him every time he checks the time.

And no, Shiro thinks.

He wouldn’t want to trade this for the world. 

*  
  
Sunday morning greets Shiro with a clear sky and the crisp sound of golden leaves underneath his feet. 

Keith arrives a bit out of breath and with his hair tousled. Shiro notices the fact that his flannel is wrongly buttoned when Keith jumps out of his truck and walks around, opening the passenger seat door for Kosmo. The dog jumps out, beelining to Atlas, who greets him with a wag of her tail, bending forward to prompt Kosmo to play. 

“Been in a hurry?” Shiro points to Keith’s buttons, causing Keith to groan. He doesn’t even try to be modest, redoing his buttons right in front of Shiro. Trying to give him some privacy, Shiro’s eyes focus on the dogs rolling around his front yard. But he can’t keep himself from squinting towards Keith. 

Shiro doesn’t know if the black turtleneck underneath Keith’s flannel is a blessing or a curse. He settles for both as he feels a warmth flood his chest. 

“Yeah, Mom is crazy about the pregnant dog. Apparently, we’re close to the due date. She wouldn’t let me leave until we took White’s temperature.” Keith explains as he finishes his last button.

“Please let’s go, I really don’t want to speak another word about pregnant dogs.”   
  
Shiro is happy to oblige, laughing as he follows Keith towards the forest. 

They only walk a couple of steps before Keith stops, pointing at Atlas’s leash. “You want to try unleashing Altas once more?” he says. “You’ve worked so hard. I’m sure this time will be fine.” 

Shiro trusts Keith’s warm smile just as much as he trusts his dog. So he walks up to Atlas, unhooking her leash. 

“If you say so.” He smiles back at Keith.

Turns out, Keith is right. 

Everything is fine. 

Because Atlas doesn’t even think about running too far from their small group.

Instead, she’s staying close to Kosmo as they explore the bushes and trees, enjoying the season. The ground is covered in leaves painting the forest in hues of brown and red. There are tiny piles of leaves everywhere and Atlas loves sticking her nose into them or running through them at full speed, barking happily as she’s following Kosmo. Apparently, Shiro doesn’t need to buy fancy toys when Atlas and Kosmo can chase each other through the forest. 

While the dogs are running through the trees, Shiro and Keith walk in silence. It’s the comfortable kind of silence that Shiro has come to value about their friendship. They could spend hours together without the need to talk. Sometimes all it takes are some gestures and their body language to decide which way they take or when to stop and call their dogs back.

“Let’s continue and don’t look back. If we’re looking back, Atlas learns that it’s okay to stop everywhere because you’re waiting for her. She needs to learn to keep an eye on you,” Keith explains when Atlas falls back and Shiro stops to wait. It’s just one of many casual training tips Keith gives him during their walks. Shiro is sure he’s learned more about his dog during their walks than during group training. Plus this also gives him the opportunity to spend time with Keith alone.

Time he’s come to treasure. Because if there’s one thing Shiro has realized over the past six months it’s that he’s missed this. 

He’s missed their casual banter.   
  
Missed the way they could talk to each other about everything – and sometimes just spend hours enjoying their presence without talking.   
  
Missed the sound of Keith’s laughter 

Shiro simply missed _being_ with Keith. 

The autumn sun is low as they make their way back, setting everything in a soft, orange light. It makes Keith glow, illuminating his hair just right. Keith looks ethereal. Whenever Shiro looks at him, his features are soft, beautiful. 

And Shiro wishes for nothing more than to stop here and now. He wishes it would be easier for him to take Keith’s hand in his and pull him close. Kiss him in the middle of the woods with leaves falling around them and their dogs at their feet. 

Shiro feels like he’s waiting for a sign – though he’s not sure what he’s waiting for.

Sometimes he imagines Keith might be giving him something that he could consider a sign. Because Keith’s gazes are a little bit softer, his touches linger a bit longer. His smiles are softer for Shiro than for anyone else. Keith would make time for him, whenever Shiro would ask. 

But that’s surely because Keith is selfless like that.   
  
Not because he would like to hold Shiro’s hand and kiss him till the sun sets.

It’s not that Shiro doesn’t want to make a move. 

But he can’t invite Keith to something that’s even close to a date without the nagging voice in his head yelling at him. Shiro blew his chances when he packed his bags and moved to college, leaving Keith behind. Why should he be worthy of Keith’s love now? Beg him for a chance when he did everything to prove he doesn’t deserve Keith’s love ten years ago? 

He feels that would not be fair. 

And maybe Shiro’s just waiting for a sign. A sign that Keith has forgiven him. A sign that Keith could actually want him like that.

To be fair, he would basically take any sign at all at this point. 

But the sign never comes. 

And so Shiro keeps his feelings to himself as they make their way through the forest. 

“Looks like we’re back already,” Keith says, pulling Shiro out of his thoughts.

Like all the time he spends with Keith, the time goes by too quickly. He feels like they barely started when they spot Shiro’s house in the distance, marking the end of their Sunday walk. 

“Oh,” is the only thing Shiro can say. Where did time go? 

As they reach his front yard, Keith hesitates.

He lingers a bit too long in Shiro’s presence. As if something is holding him back from saying his goodbye and going to his truck.   
  
And maybe that’s all the sign Shiro gets. 

His knuckles are white where his fingers wrap around the leash. 

“Keith, I..” he starts. Just when Keith says “So…”  
  
Just like they started speaking at the same time, they both laugh simultaneously.

 _Now or never_ , Shiro thinks, and a smile forms on his lips. 

The words form in his head, ready to fall from his mouth in an instant. 

Keith looks at him, eyes wide open, expecting. 

But the words don’t come.

Instead, Shiro blinks.

And in the next second, Keith stumbles forward, pressing his hands against his chest. 

“Kosmo,” he hisses back at his dog, who looks just too innocently. Shiro’s gaze falls from Kosmo to Keith and his eyes are met with the most beautiful expression on Keith’s face. Eyes the colour of the night sky wide open, a light blush on his cheeks and his lips parted just slightly. Just as if there were words on his lips that wouldn’t come out.  
  
“Shiro,” Keith says, a bit breathless. It’s a lovely sound.

And maybe _this_ is the sign he’s been waiting for. 

“Would ...would you like to stay for a tea?” Shiro blurts out. His cheeks feel hot and he’s sure they are burning bright red right now.

But it’s worth the shy smile on Keith’s lips.   
  
“I’d love to,” Keith answers. 

And maybe, just maybe, Shiro’s heart just leaped out of his chest.   
  
* 

  
“This is definitely cozier than I remember,” Keith says as he sits down on the sofa in the living room.

As they wait for their tea water to boil, Shiro starts the fireplace. 

“Yeah, I redecorated a bit. Some of Grandma’s furniture was just… old.” Shiro explains as he hands Keith the mug with steaming hot tea.   
  
Keith takes it gratefully, blowing at the tea to cool it down.   
  
“I like it.” Keith smiles against the rim of his mug. Shiro knows the tea is still too hot to drink, but it just feels nice holding it in his hands, warming his fingers.   
  
Fall might bring the most beautiful colors to their valley – but it also brings freezing temperatures. As they waited for their tea water to boil, Shiro started the fireplace. Their dogs seem grateful for tham, curling up close to the warmth of the fire. 

“Sometimes I wish I had my own place,” Keith says, blowing the steam from his tea another time. “Especially when Mom is going crazy about puppies like this.” 

He leans back casually, nearly sinking into the cushions of the couch. 

Keith looks good on his couch, Shiro thinks. He could definitely get used to the sight.   
  
Seeing Keith feel so at home on his couch makes Shiro soften into the soft cushions as well. He balances his mug with his prothethis. While Shiro can distinguish cold and warm with the metal arm, hot tea can’t burn the fingers.   
  
“Have you thought about looking for your own place?” 

Keith shakes his head. “Naah.” Keith’s fingers wrap tighter around the mug. “It’s easier with the dogs. Plus, I don’t need a lot of space. Don’t want to buy a whole house for Kosmo and myself.” As he speaks, Keith’s eyes fall to the rim of his mug.   
  
Shiro nods along. “It _can_ get pretty suffocating, being alone in a big house like this.” 

He’s happy Atlas is keeping him company. The house had definitely been more lively when his grandparents were still alive. Most times, Shiro is okay with living alone, but sometimes it feels weird to know that he’s the only soul in a house meant for a whole family.   
  
“I once joked about building a small cabin in the woods behind the shelter,” Keith says. And it sounds like such a Keith thing. The image of Keith buying a few planks of wood and building a cabin all by himself makes Shiro smile.   
  
“You know, if you ever get fed up, I do have a lot of spare rooms.” Keith looks up at him, the expression on his face warm and soft. The dim light from the fire dances on Keith, painting his features. Shiro could _definitely_ get used to the sight.   
  
Especially when a sly smile forms on Keith’s lips. “Oh, you’d let me sleep in your old room? Put on the sheets with rocket ships on it?”   
  
“Only the finest for you.” Shiro grins.   
  
“Dork.” Keith laughs, nudging his toes against Shiro’s calf.  
  
Shiro can feel his chest fill with familiar warmth. It feels so good to laugh with Keith like this. The image of Keith moving in and sharing this house with him sneaks into his mind and the thought is too beautiful to smother it immediately. 

The house is way too big for Shiro and Altas alone, but it would be the perfect size for the four of them. It’s easy to imagine. Spontaneous dance sessions in the kitchen while cooking together. Laughing over breakfast and letting the dogs out into the garden to play. Maybe even waking up in the same bed together, cuddling closer to fight the cold outside… Shiro feels his cheeks heat and his pulse quicken. What would he give to wake up next to Keith?  
  
His daydreams are interrupted by a wet dog snout pressing against his leg. “Hey Kosmo,” Shiro says, trying to suppress a groan. His legs are keeping the dog from walking up to Keith. Kosmo just ignores Shiro’s moaning. He waits patiently for Shiro to move his legs so he can pad towards Keith. 

“Are you jealous I’m talking to Shiro?” Keith asks as Kosmo places his head on Keith’s legs, looking up at him with big eyes. The wagging of his tail gets faster once Keith starts scratching his ear. 

It’s cute, watching Kosmo and Keith interact like that. Shiro is happy Keith found the perfect dog.

The perfect dog who suddenly stands up and nudges against Keith’s legs – before he jumps up on the couch. Keith can barely save his tea as Kosmo squeezes between Keith and the armrest.   
  
“Kosmo,” Keith groans, shuffling closer to Shiro. “You’re not a puppy anymore.” 

Kosmo just looks at him with a happy grin and uncurls his legs – pressing Keith even closer towards Shiro.

The warm feeling of Keith’s hip pressing against his legs is welcome, Shiro discovers. So is Keith’s proximity as he shifts towards Shiro to avoid their shoulders bumping together. 

To make some room for Keith, Shiro lifts his left arm to the back rest, allowing Keith to shuffle even closer. 

They are so close that Shiro could easily wrap his arm around Keith’s shoulder. It’s tempting. especially when Keith shifts and his hand lands on Shiro’s thigh. The innocent touch sends a shiver down Shiro’s spine. 

“I’m... I’m sorry. Kosmo sometimes thinks he’s a Pomeranian.” As Keith speaks, Shiro can feel Keith’s breath against his skin. 

“Uhum,” Shiro says, shaking his head. “It’s okay.”  
  
In fact, it’s more than okay. Having Keith close like this, close enough to count his lashes in the dim firelight. He’s like a magnet, pulling him closer. Shiro wonders what the hand resting on his thigh would feel like curled around his fingers. 

It’s a stupid idea that comes to Shiro’s mind, but he gives it a try anyway – and lets his fingers wander.

It’s slow as he’s trying to use a casual shift of his legs as an excuse to place his hand closer to Keith’s. He’s sure he’s not as subtle as he thinks he is. He’s sure Keith must notice. But then again, Keith’s eyes are fixed on his. 

Just when Shiro tries to muster his courage to breach the last remaining inches between their hands, he can feel Keith’s fingers ghost over the back of his hand. 

Where they touch, it sets Shiro’’s skin on fire.   
  
“Shiro,” Keith whispers, as his fingers draw circles on Shiro’s skin. It’s hard to concentrate when his skin is tingling wherever Keith touches him, so all Shiro can muster in return is a, “Hm?”   
  
Up close, Keith looks even more beautiful, is all Shiro can think. Even his voice seemed to be more beautiful from up close. More honest.   
  
“What happened to us?”

“I’m…” Shiro starts. Before he continues, he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he exhales. “I wish I could tell you. I think I wanted to make it out of this town. Prove that I can make it out there.. Instead, I had the worst years of my life.”   
  
Shir’s eyes find the ceiling. He can’t face Keith like this. Not when his voice trembles and he can feel the need to scream about his own stupidity. 

He’s imagined having this conversation with Keith a thousand times. Imagined Keith being disappointed, angry, devastated. Imagined Keith would shy away or leave. 

What he hasn’t expected is Keith’s fingers wrapping around his metal hand, giving it a light squeeze. And Keiths’s voice, warm, cautious, just as trembling as Shiro’s own.   
  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you,” Keith says. And the expression on Keith’s face is the most shattering thing he’s ever seen. 

“Keith.” Shiro’s left hand finds Keith’s cheek, just as his eyes find Keith’s again. “ _I_ am sorry. I shouldn’t have left you.”   
  
He never expected Keith to forgive him for leaving him and never calling him in ten years. Shiro doesn’t deserve it. So when Keith speaks his next words, Shiro is ready to take the blow he’s been waiting for.

Instead, Keith’s fingers slide into the spaces between Shiro’s metal ones.  
  
“Hey, it’s okay,” Keith says, warm and clear. Just like that.   
  
And something in Shiro shatters. He feels raw and vulnerable in front of Keith, like something fell from his shoulders he’s been holding onto for far too long. So he says the first thing on his mind. 

“I missed you.”   
  
“I missed you, too.” 

Keith’s reply makes Shiro’s heart sing. 

Keith is so close, Shiro can feel his breath fanning against his lips. This close, Keith’s eyes are even more beautiful, a deep purple galaxy framed by dark lashes. They move as Keith blinks, his gaze flicking to Shiro’s lips and back up again. 

“Keith,” Shiro whispers into the minimal space between them. It feels so natural to lean into Keith’s presence, to let his finger graze over Keith’s cheek. 

It would be so easy to bridge the gap between their lips, to kiss Keith like deserves. 

He just needs to be brave. If Shiro has waited for a chance, it’s definitely this. Keith looks up at him with his mouth slightly parted and his cheeks light pink. 

So Shiro bends forward - and is stopped by Keith’s phone ringing. 

“Damn,” Keith curses, reaching for his phone. Shiro can see the letters MOM flash on the display before Keith answers the call.

Shiro definitely misses Keith’s warm fingers in his hand. 

“What is it?” He’s definitely annoyed, snapping at Krolia like this. “What started?” 

There’s a shift in Keith’s voice and body, from annoyed to distressed in a matter of seconds. His free hand rushes over his face and into his hair as he speaks. “She was fine this morning, how can she.. Yeah, yeah, I got. I’m coming. Just.. calm down okay?” With a sigh, Keith hangs up, looking at Shiro. 

“The puppies are coming.” 

It takes Shiro approximately three seconds to stand up and get their jackets and the leashes for their dogs.  
  
Keith catches up to him, taking his jacket from Shiro’s hands. “What are you…?”   
  
Shiro slips into his jacket before he searches for his car keys. He whistles for their dogs who jump to their feet. Kosmo yawns heartily and Atlas stretches her paws before they trod over. 

“Did you think I would let you go alone?” Shiro says, bending down to fix the collar around Atlas's neck. 

Keith stops in his tracks and Shiro can see his perplexed expression turn into a smile. 

“Okay, let’s go.” 

*

“Oh bless you for coming, Shiro!” 

Keith was right – the living room is a mess. About half of the room is fenced by a playpen merging into a wooden whelping box. 

Shiro is grateful they left their dogs outside. It would have been too much stress for the dog going into labor.  
  
“Atlas is gonna be fine,” Keith said on their way back to the shelter. “We’re gonna check on them, I’m sure Kosmo will help her calm down.” 

There’s hardly enough time for both of them to take off their jackets before Krolia greets them with a stack of towels in her arms, pressing a quick kiss to Keith’s forehead.   
  
“The first puppy is already there.” Krolia beams, kneeling down next to the box. With a flick of her hand, she gestures to Keith and Shiro to come closer.

There’s a tiny worm of a dog snuggled close to the proud dog mom, a beautiful rough collie lady they called White for the collar of fur around her neck. The puppy’s fur is light brown, short and slick where the dog mom has licked it clean. “She needs to do this to help the little one start breathing,” Krolia explains as the three of them stand around the whelping box.

She places her hand on White’s flank, probably feeling for contractions. “This one needs a bit of time to recover. Once the second puppy is here, we can start weighing the first one. Otherwise that’s too much stress for the mother. Oh, there comes number two!” 

Never in his life would Shiro have imagined he’d one day witness the birth of a puppy. But here he is, watching a tiny dog come to life. 

He’s mesmerized by the sight. He feels blessed he’s allowed to be part of this.

“Good girl, you’re doing amazing,” Krolia says, her hand lightly massaging White’s flank. She then nods her head towards the table next to them.

“I need some help with weighing and cataloging the puppies. Can you two take care of that? I need to get more towels.” 

Once White turns towards the second puppy and starts to lick it clean, Keith picks up the first one and walks over to the table. Shiro follows, watching the tiny bundle of dog wriggle eagerly in Keith’s hands. 

“The eyes are still closed, and will remain so for the next two weeks,” Keith explains, lightly rocking the puppy. “They focus on the body heat of their mother and their siblings.” As if to underline Keith’s words, the puppy starts to whine, winding in Keith’s hand in search for warmth.

Carefully, Keith turns the dog in his hands. “It’s a girl,” he says, nodding towards the laptop in front of Shiro. “I need to take some measurements, can you write them down for me?”  
  
There’s an open spreadsheet marked with dates and figures. The columns are titled Name, Gender, Weight and Temperature and Shiro raises an eyebrow. ”Do we name them now?” Keith shakes his head as he places the puppy inside a bowl to weigh it.

“We pick out names later. But we do need to recognize them for tracking their weight and such. So we’ll go by colors for now.” Shiro’s eyes fall on the multi-colored collars in front of him. “You can pick some if you like,” Keith adds as he lifts the puppy to Shiro’s face. 

Shiro bends forward, squinting his eyes at the puppy.   
  
“Hello, little one. You look like a Green to me,” he says, adjusting the green collar Keith hands him around the puppy’s neck. 

It’s easy how they find their routine. There are about ten minutes in between each puppy which leaves them enough time to check on them.

Krolia hands them the puppies one after another and Keith holds them up to Shiro who assigns colors and collars to the dogs. Once they are labeled with a color, Keith weighs them and measures the body temperature with painstaking accuracy. Shiro types down all the figures Keith tells him, filling the first column of the spreadsheet. 

There are a lot of predated columns in the document, making Shiro realize that Krolia and Keith will be spending the next days weighing and measuring puppies. 

They are a good team, Shiro notes around puppy number two (who Shiro names Red since he seems rather hotheaded in the way he already tries to bustle in Keith’s hands). Krolia says so, too, when she hands Keith puppy number three, and her words leave a pleasant feeling in Shiro’s chest as he picks out a collar for the puppy. This one’s a bit bigger and heavier than the other puppies and has darker fur than the previous ones. Shiro finds it only fitting to assign the black collar to the puppy. 

The next puppy Krolia hands them, another male pup, has lighter patches of baby fur around his mouth, making it seem like he’s smiling. He looks cheerful and content, even with his eyes closed, and he immediately snuggles into Keith’s embrace when Krolia hands him over. Shiro picks out the yellow collar for him. 

“This is the last one,” Krolia says once Shiro is done writing down Yellow’s stats and Keith brings the puppy back to his mother. Krolia carefully places Yellow close to a free teat, cooing when the blind puppy shuffles over to suckle. She then hands Keith the last puppy.

“It’s another boy,” Keith says, cursing as the puppy nibbles into his fingers. “This one’s a fighter,” he laughs as he tries to free his fingers from the puppy’s grip. He loses the fight. 

“Hmm, how about Blue?” Shiro steps up to Keith with the blue collar in his hands. He carefully grazes his thumb over the space between the puppy’s ears, which earns him the attention of the tiny dog. Once he lets go of Keith’s finger, Shiro smiles. He fixes the collar around Blue’s neck, his hand hovering over the puppy once he’s done. The fur is wet and rough where Shiro’s fingers pet Blue. 

Shiro lets his fingers wander until they curl around Keith’s hands. He looks up at Keith and the smile they share is warm, tender. It takes Krolia’s words to break them apart as she’s coming over to ask if they are done yet. Shiro swears his cheeks are burning as he tends to fillling Blue’s stats into the spreadsheet.

Once Blue snuggles up to his brothers and sister, eagerly suckling at their mother’s teats, all three take a deep breath. 

“Thank you for your help,” Krolia says, picking up the stained blankets from the whelping box. 

She places the towels into a laundry basket before she heads for the kitchen counter. “Don’t know about you, but I could use a hot chocolate.”  
  
*

It’s later, way later, that Shiro’s eyes blink open and the room around him is dark, only illuminated by the dim light from the fireplace. 

It takes him a second to remember where he is. He feels the comfortable weight of Keith pressing against his side, Keith’s head resting on his shoulder. And everything feels warm and cozy.

They must have fallen asleep on the sofa after Krolia handed each of them a mug. At least Shiro remembers sitting down next to Keith after checking on their dogs outside, sipping on hot chocolate and trying to unwind. 

What Shiro does not remember is the blanket that’s draped over their shoulders, pooling into their laps. He also does not remember why there’s no mug in his hands. Instead, his metal arm is wrapped around Keith’s shoulder, pressing Keith a little bit closer to him. If this is the reason Keith nuzzles into his shoulder, Shiro won’t complain.

He hears low whining and shuffling coming from the whelping box, a sign the puppies and the mother are doing well. 

Shiro knows he should nudge Keith awake. He knows their limbs will hurt in the morning. Knows there will be a soft pink around Keith’s cheeks when he notices the position they’ve slept in.

It would be easy to wake Keith, to get Atlas and say his goodbye, leaving for the night so both of them can sleep in an actual bed.

Shiro _knows_ .   
  
Instead, he lets his thumb graze over Keith’s arm and shuffles a bit closer into Keith’s warmth. 

Shiro knows it’s selfish.   
  
But god, does he want to be selfish.

*


	4. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Biggest Thank you to the amazing [AnonAzure](https://twitter.com/anonazure) for the beautiful artwork you can find in this chapter and also on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/anonazure/status/1355774408103616518)!

*

Shiro doesn’t even recognize how winter steals into town. But one day all the leaves are gone and the stores around the marketplace are decorated with Christmas lights.

A few days before Christmas, Hunk approaches him, asking him if he could help pull up the Christmas tree in the town square. He’s happy to do so, later watching Romelle and some of her friends decorate the ten-foot-tall tree with Christmas lights once the tree stands tall and proud in the center of the town. 

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Allura says, joining Shiro and pressing a cup of hot coffee into his hands. Shiro just nods. 

As he watches Romelle hurry around the tree, Allura lifts her head, eyeing the sky. “Now the only thing missing is snow.”  
  
“You think we’ll have a white Christmas?” As he speaks, Shiro wraps his hands closer around the cup, warming his fingers.   
  
Shiro hasn't had a white Christmas for ten years. Not since he left his hometown. The idea of snow around Christmas puts a smile on his lips. 

Apparently, Christmas brings its own kind of magic to the valley. There are lights in every house and, even though the days are short and cold, there's warmth in Shiro’s chest. 

Winter is his favorite season and he can’t wait for Christmas. 

And it’s not just for him – the whole town seems to be in a Christmas mood.  
  
Watching Romelle hide dog and cat shaped ornaments in the tree with Allura has such casual magic to it. It hasn’t even been a year and Shiro already feels so welcome by everyone, making it easy to settle back in.

He and Keith have become regular customers at Hunk’s restaurant (and have his number on speed dial in case they are too busy with their dogs), Lance and Allura invite Shiro for regular Scrabble nights and Romelle even offered him a bonus card for dog treats. 

Just as if he hasn’t been gone in the first place. 

“Oh look, it’s snowing!” Allura's words pull Shiro out of his thoughts.

And he smiles against his coffee cup.  
  
Looks as if it’s really going to be a white Christmas after all.

  
* 

And indeed, the snow stays for the holidays. 

When Shiro wakes up on Christmas Eve, the valley is coated in a thick layer of powdery snow that glistens in the morning sun. 

Christmas Day falls on a Monday, but Shiro is in the Christmas spirit for the whole weekend, decorating his chimney with garlands of holly to fit the cheerful spirit his Christmas tree brings. It’s standing tall and proud on a chair in the living room. After Atlas padded close to the tree when Shiro first set it up, sniffing at it with caution, Shiro decided to keep it out of the dog’s reach – just to be extra careful. It’s his first Christmas as a dog owner, and Shiro has put a lot of effort into researching dog-friendly Christmas decorations. He even bought an extra big chew bone as a Christmas gift for her. 

He couldn’t be more prepared, he thinks. 

Shiro’s not the only one in a Christmas mood that weekend. Keith aggressively reminds him of that – via text. “Mom is in full Christmas spirit. Need to go out or otherwise I might catch it!!” He had sent it a day before, replying to Shiro’s tentative query if they should postpone their weekly walk to after the holidays. 

So it’s Christmas Eve when Shiro stands outside, decorating his front door while Atlas zooms through the snow. He might not have strings of lights for his front yard, but Shiro found a green and red tinsel garland the perfect length to fit over his door in his grandparent’s stuff that basically begged him to use it.

His nose is cold when Keith’s car turns into his driveway. 

“Hey Kosmo,” Shiro greets Kosmo with a pat on his head before Keith pulls him into a hug. 

It’s a welcome surprise for Shiro. One that has Shiro melt into Keith’s hug, lingering a bit too long in his presence. But Keith smells like lavender and soap and Shiro has to fight the urge to bury his nose in Keith’s hair. And he’s sure the warmth in his chest comes from Keith’s body heat pressed against him like a human heater – and not from his heart beating rapidly in his ribcage.

“It’s good to see you,” Keith says. Shiro replies with a hum. As much as he hates for Keith to step back, Shiro hopes Keith didn’t hear his racing pulse. 

“So, any plans for tomorrow?” Keith starts as they head for their usual route. 

They know the forest by heart by now. And so do their dogs, both a bit unsure on how to move in the snow. Shiro doesn’t even bother to put a leash on Atlas – her call-back hasn’t let him down once in the past weeks. 

“Nope. It’s probably just Atlas and me and a good book by the fireplace. I’ve started this new Sci-Fi series and it’s basically begging me to read it.” As Shiro speaks, he’s rubbing his hands together to heat them up. 

He should have brought gloves.

“Sounds great,” Keith says, burying his hands in the pockets of his coat. His nose is red, a stark contrast to the marble color of his face. 

As much as Shiro enjoys snow, he could easily do without the cold temperatures.

“It will also include a lot of hot chocolate, Christmas music, and Grandma’s traditional Christmas stew. Just found her recipe! I’m sure there will be enough for.. like… two people?” Shiro mentally high-fives himself for staying as smooth as possible. And not freaking out while he actually asks Keith out. 

Keith stops in his tracks, staring at Shiro. Shiro stops too, turning back to Keith. His mind runs wild. ‘ _Abort, abort,_ ’ is the only thing running in his head as he tries to come up with any excuse.

Keith’s answer, though, surprises him.

“Shiro.” The word is warm. Just like the smile on Keith’s lips. Shiro is sure his stomach is doing somersaults by now. “I would love to. But you know… Mom does this big Christmas breakfast, inviting all my uncles. She needs my help with all the preparation and taking care of the dogs. I wish I could slip away. I loved your grandma’s stew.” As he speaks, Keith’s eyes wander to the ground and his hands bury even deeper into his pockets. His voice drops. 

And so does Shiro’s stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” Keith says. 

It’s hard to fight the disappointment when the image of spending Christmas Day in front of the fireplace with Keith and Kosmo had been just too perfect in his mind. It was a last-minute request, after all. He should have known better than to get his hopes up.

So he does his best to put a smile on and place a hand on Keith’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Don’t worry, Keith.”

“But…” Keith never gets to finish his sentence as Shiro shakes his head.  
  
“No buts. Krolia is lucky to have you helping,” Shiro says with a smile still on his lips. He tries his best to play it cool so Keith doesn’t worry. Even though his heart aches.

The smile that sneaks onto Keith’s lips is enough to make it hurt a little less.  
  
He hates to break their contact, but Shiro’s hand drops back to his side. He’s already missing Keith the second his hand is empty. 

Shiro tries his best not to let it show, gesturing to Keith to follow their dogs with a nod of his head. He starts walking, waiting for the sound of Keith’s footsteps in the snow.

“You know...” It’s Keith's voice which stops Shiro in his tracks this time. As he turns his head, the sight of Keith warms his heart. With his hands buried in his pockets and his face lifted towards the sky, his cheeks and nose an adorable red, Keith is just too charming.

“We could definitely use a helping hand. There are a lot of dogs to feed before breakfast.”

Shiro doesn’t even blink before he answers. 

“I would love to,” Shiro says, feeling the corners of his lips tug upwards.

Keith looks at him, with his face lighting up and his eyes wide open. “You sure?” he says, as he catches up with Shiro. Shiro’s sure he’s not imagining the spring in his step. “Yup, very sure,” he nods.  
  
“Let me text Mom. I’m sure she’ll have enough food to feed an army, but still…” As Keith pulls the phone from his hand, Shiro is content just to watch the bright smile on Keith’s face. 

He looks beautiful like this, bathed by the winter sun, his cheeks red from the cold and his smile bright and hopeful. It’s a look that reminds Shiro so much of a 15-year-old Keith, full of dreams and plans as they watched the night sky from Shiro’s treehouse. 

They might be ten years older, marked by time and tiredness, but the smile on Keith’s face is still the same. Still manages to completely grab his heart.

Shiro is so lost in watching Keith’s face that he hardly notices how Keith puts the phone back into his coat – if it wasn’t for the brush of fingers against his own. And for the small “oh,” that escapes Keith lips as their fingers touch in the space between them.  
  
The warmth of Keith’s fingers leaves fast. Way too fast for Shiro’s liking. 

So he does the first thing that comes to his mind. He chases Keith’s hand with his own. 

Intertwining their fingers. 

And there’s nothing more beautiful, Shiro thinks, than the way Keith’s surprise shifts into a warm smile. 

Shiro can feel the fingers around his squeeze lightly as they make their way through the untouched snow, watching their dogs.

Kosmo and Altas leave their pawprints in the snow as they run ahead. Atlas seems completely in love with it, as far as Shiro can tell. She’s alternating between jumping into the snow or tossing herself to the ground and rolling around. Her brown fur is speckled in puffs of white every time she emerges – but not for long. She seems to make sure to shake off her fur whenever she’s really close to Shiro, sending snow raining all over Shiro every time.

“Hey, stop it, Atlas!” Shiro laughs when Altas does it for the third time. He’s shielding his face with the arm that’s not touching Keith but it’s no use. The snow that had been previously in Atlas’s fur now covers Shiro’s whole coat.

“Scared of some snow, Shirogane?” Next to him, Keith sounds very smug. Soft fingers pressing against his make Shiro turn towards Keith. There’s definitely not enough snow sprinkled on Keith’s clothes, he realizes.

He hates to let go of Keith, already missing his warmth. But Keith’s words were just too challenging.

“Oh, you!” Is the only warning he gives Keith before Shiro kneels down, scooping up a handful of snow – and sending it flying towards Keith. 

It hits Keith directly in the face. 

“What?” Keith says, completely dumbfounded for a second. As he stares at him, Shiro can see the exact second Keith’s surprise shifts into something different. 

Something sly. 

He barely has time to react before Keith sends a snowball flying into his direction. Shiro attempts to shift sideways, but he’s too slow. The snowball bounces off Shiro’s shoulder. 

“Do you call that a snowball, Keith? That was barely a snow bean!“ Shiro laughs, hurrying sideways to put some distance between them. 

From the corner of his eye, he catches Keith kneel down and pick up a big chunk of snow, forming it in his hands. 

“You should have known better than to mess with me,” is the last thing Shiro hears before a huge lump of snow comes flying into his direction. He crouches down to avoid it, his hands grabbing some snow in the movement. 

Keith yelps as the snowball hits his legs. 

Shiro takes the chance to stand back up, but Keith is too fast. The next snow-ball hits Shiro’s back with a force that makes Shiro groan.

“Where did you learn to throw like that?” He laughs, ducking to dodge Keith’s next snowball before he sends another one flying. He aims for Keith’s leg, but it hits Keith’s chest, stopping Keith from throwing another snowball in Shiro’s direction.

They continue like this for a while, sending snowballs flying between them. They both are terrible at aiming and only a few of Shiro’s snowballs actually hit Keith, mostly against his chest or arms while Keith’s snowballs manage to hit Shiro’s back and side pretty hard. Shiro is sure there will be bruises from Keith’s snowballs. But he doesn’t care. Because Keith’s laughter as he throws another batch of snow into Shiro’s direction, this time hitting Shiro’s shoulder, is a little breathless, a little crooked. 

It’s beautiful. 

So beautiful in fact, that Shiro forgets to dodge one of Keith’s snowballs, mesmerized by Keith. 

The snow hits his ear with full force. 

It hurts and it’s cold, damn cold and Shiro covers his ear, trying to whisk the snow from his head. 

“Oh shit, sorry, Shiro. Are you hurt?” As he turns away from Keith, he hears Keith approaching. It doesn’t really hurt _that_ much. But as Keith comes closer, placing a concerned hand on Shiro’s shoulder, Shiro decides to take his chance. 

He turns and presses a big piece of snow right into Keith’s face. 

“You little shit,” Keith curses, spitting out some snow. Shiro just laughs at the image of Keith, shaking his head to rid his hair of snow. 

“Just you wait, my revenge will be sweet!” There’s a determined twinkle in Keith’s eyes as he steps back – only to realize he’s stepped right into Atlas’s side. Startled by Keith, Atlas leaps off, leaving Keith to stumble backwards.

Too late Keith tries to regain his balance, his arms flailing to the sides. Shiro catches one of his arms in an attempt to steady Keith. Just when he thinks he’s got Keith, he feels something nudge against his back. It’s enough to lose his balance, sending him forward, directly into the arms of a stumbling Keith.

They tumble down, a soft _oomf_ resonating as Keith’s back collides with the snowy ground. 

In his defense, Shiro always thinks Keith is beautiful. With his long hair and his dark eyes, with lips that look just perfect for Shiro to kiss. 

But Keith like this, pinned underneath him, his ink-black hair spilled out on the white snow, his cheeks pink and his eyes glassy and hopeful, his lips slightly parted and his hot breath coming out fast in puffs… 

Shiro has never seen Keith look more mesmerizing.

There’s nothing more he wishes for than to bend down and kiss Keith. Here, right now, in the snow. 

It would be so easy.

“Shiro.” Keith’s voice comes out hushed, warm. And Keith’s eyes flutter close. 

And Shiro decides to be brave. 

It’s the perfect time to finally chase that kiss he’s been wanting to steal from Keith for so long.

The only kiss Shiro gets, though, is the cold nose of his dog pressing against his cheek. Followed by Atlas’s tongue licking over his skin. 

“Atlas, no!” Shiro yells as he stumbles to his feet, scolding his dog. “You jealous girl!” he curses, before he turns towards Keith, offering him a hand to help him up. 

“We.. we should head back,” Keith says, brushing the snow from his clothes. His face is bright red. 

Judging from the way his cheeks burn, Shiro’s face doesn’t look much different from Keith's. His heart is still hammering in his chest as he thumps against his coat, trying to get rid of the snow while avoiding Keith as best as possible.

Keith trudges away, his steps fast and straightforward, heading back to Shiro’s house.

Following Keith, Shiro sighs. 

If Keith doesn’t want to talk about it, Shiro is sure to try and forget what just happened.

That he was about to kiss Keith.  
  
*

“Hey Keith, remind me where I put the silverware!” 

“It’s in the cupboard, third drawer on the right.” 

Christmas with Keith and his mom is... an experience, as Shiro likes to call it. 

On Christmas morning, the three of them find themselves torn between feeding dogs, making coffee, setting the table for ten people and decorating the hallway with garlands of tinsel. 

After waking up to the weight of Atlas on his chest and wet dog spit licking over his face, Shiro decided he might as well drive over to the shelter to help Keith and Krolia prepare their breakfast. Atlas could also play with Kosmo while they were busy inside, which, Shiro figured, would be way more fun for Altas than a jog around the forest. So he put a big bow in green and red tartan around Atlas's neck – for the Christmas spirit – and let her jump onto his passenger seat, listening to cheesy Christmas songs coming from the radio. 

Atlas found Kosmo in the front yard before the car came to a halt. She jumped out after Kosmo the second Shiro opened her door. Too late does Shiro realize he should have waited to put the bow on – at least until after the dogs were done playing in the muddy snow. 

The second Shiro enters the house, he was greeted by Krolia in a red apron with a corny reindeer on it and a Christmas hat dangling from her head. She pulled him into a warm hug, saying “Bless you for helping,” before she hushed back into the kitchen, trying to save her scrambled eggs. “Merry Christmas, Shiro,” she yelled from the kitchen as an afterthought. 

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. K,” Shiro answered, taking off his coat and scarf. 

“Told you to call me Krolia,” was the only answer Shiro got from inside the kitchen before Krolia’s words morphed into cursing. Shiro didn’t pay attention to her anymore, anyway. Because Keith appeared in the hallway, taking his coat for him. 

And whistling once he spotted Shiro’s seasonal attire. 

“Fancy Christmas sweater,” he added, his voice teasing. 

“Thanks.” Shiro beamed. In fact, he had spent hours searching before he found the perfect sweater: It had dogs wearing Christmas hats all over it, reading ‘woof woof woof’ in curvy letters.

“Beware, there’s a mistletoe in the living room.” Keith rolled his eyes as he put a tinsel garland in Shiro’s hands. “Could you put that up for me?” 

So Shiro finds himself putting up a Christmas garland in the hallway while Krolia tries not to burn breakfast and Keith is busy in the living room, setting up the tree from the sounds of it. 

There’s Christmas music coming from the radio, probably the same songs he’s just heard on his way here, and they are mixing with the happy barking of dogs running outside. The smell of freshly baked bread rolls and coffee hangs in the air and every so often, Shiro hears Krolia or Keith curse and mutter under their breaths. 

It’s the strangest Christmas morning Shiro’s ever experienced. He loves it. 

He’s just finished setting up the last garland when Krolia leaves the kitchen for a second. It doesn’t smell of burned eggs, yet, so Shiro thinks she might have been successful so far. 

“Hey Keith, could you feed the dogs? It’s getting late,” Krolia says, wiping her hands on the apron. 

“The tree doesn’t finish itself,” Keith replies from the living room, his voice clearly distressed. 

“I could do it.” Shiro smiles at her, his one arm already slipping back into his coat.

“Oh bless my son for finding you,” Krolia says, pressing a kiss against Shiro’s temple before she vanishes into the kitchen again, probably trying to save the coffee.

So Shiro makes for the dog kennels, giving Atlas and Kosmo a small pat as he passes them on the way.

“Good Morning, everyone,” Shiro says once he enters the shed.

The dogs are happy to see Shiro. They start barking and whining as he makes his way to the small area where the dog food is stored. Some even jump up to their bars, their tails wagging rapidly. 

The excitement probably comes from the fact that Shiro has a big bag of dry food in his hands and they haven’t been fed for twelve hours, but Shiro likes to pretend they are just happy to see him. There’s a whiteboard in the shed, stating the exact amount of food for each dog as well as allergies and intolerances and Shiro makes sure to fill each bowl with utmost caution. 

When the dogs in the first compartments are fed, content crunching filling the air, Shiro tends to the second room. In the kennel he met Atlas for the first time so many months ago he now finds White and her five puppies, chasing and stumbling over each other. They’ve grown so much and now look nothing like the tiny worms he held just eight weeks ago. By now it’s clear that they are not pure-breed Collie pups, but they are cute and clumsy with their tiny paws and their ears still folded. 

They are old enough to be separated from their mother, but Krolia wanted to make sure none of the puppies end under the Christmas tree of a child, only to be given away two weeks later when the kid realizes how much work an actual puppy is. 

“Hello, Red,” Shiro laughs when Red pads over to him, tugging at his shoelace. Shiro picks him up and takes him with him to the table in the corner where he’s preparing their bowls. 

Red is curious, watching Shiro’s every movement and carefully sniffing at the empty bowl in front of him. 

Krolia decided to stick to calling the puppies by their respective colors. It was the easiest way to keep the puppies apart and their new owners would probably give them new names, anyway. In addition, Krolia admitted she was too lazy to come up with five names starting with an A – as it was tradition to name every pup from the same litter with the same initial.

“You could start with a K. Like Krolia, Keith and Kosmo,” Shiro suggested, but Krolia only shook her head. “I like the colors,” she said. And the colors stuck.

Unlike Atlas’s minimal kennel interior, Krolia had put a lot of effort into adding blankets, pillows and chewing toys into the enclosure. It looks quite cozy from what Shiro sees as he puts down the bowls of food for the dogs and lifts Red back to his siblings.

Shiro kneels down, watching the puppies devour their food. 

“Hope we’ll find you all some lovely families who will love you just as much as I love Atlas,” he says, fascinated by the tiny mouths and ears and the cute wagging of their small tails. Over the past few weeks Shiro had found himself considering taking one of the puppies in. He’d grown especially fond of the one he named Black. But Atlas is already a handful – and still has too many things to learn. 

As cute as the puppies are, Shiro can’t think of taking in another dog just now. 

Once White and the puppies finish eating, he waves the dogs goodbye, but not before placing Green, who tried to sneak out by clinging to his leg, back into the kennel.

He knows the other dogs usually are allowed outside after they’ve eaten, so Shiro opens the other kennels once he’s back in the main room, making sure the door to the puppies is safely closed. 

Most dogs run out the second their kennel door is opened. Shiro even has to rebalance when an especially ambitious pug tackles his legs on the way out. 

There’s only one dog who’s a bit shy, rather sticking to Shiro’s side than running outside. It’s a dachshund with short legs and even shorter, dark brown fur.

Shiro remembers how Krolia named him Antok. Which was a weird choice – Shiro knew full well that one of Krolia’s brothers is called Antok. He’s met him before at one of Keith’s birthday parties. But Krolia always had an interesting choice when it came to dog names. Atlas, White, and Antok are just a few examples of her dog naming skills. 

As Shiro makes his way back to the house, trying hard not to stumble ove one of twenty running dogs, he’s followed by Antok who watches him obediently, not once facing somewhere else.

Krolia waits at the door, holding it open for Shiro. As he reaches it, he kneels down, patting Antok’s back. 

“I’m sorry I can’t play with you today,” he says. And he swears Antok’s tail sinks down in disappointment. The dog looks up at Shiro with his big eyes, looking way too innocent and cute, but Shiro just shakes his head. 

So Antok turns and runs off, joining the other dogs on the yard. 

Krolia whistles, catching Shiro’s attention. 

“Wow, you and Antok surely are getting close,” she says as she leads Shiro back into the house, taking his coat for him.

“Yeah, we seemed to vibe.” Shiro smiles at her. Maybe Shiro reminded Antok of his previous owner. That would at least be an explanation for the dachshund’s affections towards Shiro. So Shiro makes a mental note to ask Krolia if she knows anything about the people who dropped Antok off at the shelter. 

Later, though, because right now Krolia presses a mug of steaming coffee into Shiro’s hands. It’s the perfect way to warm his cold fingers.

“Don’t let Keith know,” Krolia says with a grin. “Or Atlas. I’m sure she won’t be happy to share your bed.”

“Don’t let Keith know what exactly?” As if summoned by Krolia’s words, Keith appears in the hallway, leaning his arm against the doorframe. He looks a bit disheveled, some of the strands of hair have escaped his tiny ponytail, framing his face and poking in every direction. His shoulders look tense and there’s something in his voice Shiro can’t quite place. Anger? 

“Oh, you should see how close Shiro and Antok are,” Krolia explains, but Shiro lifts his hands in defense.

“You’re too kind. I’m not sure Antok and I are already that close,” he explains. Krolia’s praise feels wrong when he’s barely done anything to deserve the dachshund’s love. In the corner of his eye, Shiro sees one of Keith’s eyebrows rock up and his shoulders tense even more. Keith’s hands wander into his pockets and it’s a sure sign something is up. “But Shiro,” Krolia beams, patting Shiro’s shoulder affectionately. Shiro has a hard time trying not to spill his coffee. “You’re such a natural with dogs. Don’t play it down.” Before Shiro can answer, Keith takes a step forward. As Shiro turns towards him, he can see Keith’s eyes widened as of in surprise, his mouth open.

“Dogs,” he says, squinting his eyes. 

Krolia nods, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Yeah. Dogs. What did you think?” 

“But Antok...” Keith sounds confused, but Shiro notices the tension fall from his shoulders. 

_Oh!_

And it hits Shiro. He finally realizes what Keith must have been thinking. 

His uncle Antok. And Shiro.  
  
Oh!  
  
_Oh no!_ _  
_ _  
_ As Shiro shakes his head, Krolia lifts one of her hands to her mouth, watching Keith with a pondering stare. “Yeah, Antok. The Dachshund,” she says. And Shiro hears the faked innocence in her voice.<

Keith rolls his eyes at her gesture.  
  
“Mom, why would you name a dachshund after your brother?” Keith’s hand finds his forehead as she shakes his head in disbelief.

There’s even so much as a smile around his lips and Shiro is happy to see that he’s better. Though he’s not quite sure what’s just happened. Could Keith be… jealous? Of a dog?

“Have you seen his tiny fangs and his big ears?” Krolia coos. “He looks just like your uncle!” 

A chuckle leaves Shiro’s lips. The dachshund’s big ears really kind of remind him of human Antok. 

“You should have seen how Antok followed Shiro around. Really Shiro, we could use someone like you here,” Krolia adds, turning towards Shiro. She’s just too kind, Shiro thinks. There’s no need for such praise.  
  
“Thank you, Krolia, but it wasn’t really anything.” Shiro raises his hands again. 

“If you say ... Oh no, my croissants!!” Krolia never finishes her sentence. In an instant, she turns around and vanishes back into the kitchen. They only hear her faint cursing coming from the other room.

“So, eh...” Keith starts. He’s averted his eyes, staring anywhere but at Shiro. “Would you like to help me decorate the Christmas tree?”

”I would love to.” Shiro smiles, following Keith into the living room.  
  
It’s quite a sight, with boxes full of tree decorations laying around a naked Christmas tree. It’s a big tree, nearly reaching the ceiling and taking up most of the space that had just been occupied by five Collie puppies a few weeks ago. 

Krolia must have let in Kosmo and Atlas while Shiro was gone feeding the shelter dogs, because both of their dogs lounge around the living room. Kosmo sprawls over the sofa while Atlas is lying patiently under the Christmas tree. With the tartan bow around her neck she looks like a very furry present. 

“I have no idea why Mom can’t just be a normal person and put the tree up before Christmas,” Keith says with a sigh. He bends down to lift a long string of fairy lights up and begins to untangle the individual lights from what seems to be one massive knot.  
  
Shiro chuckles softly. “Here, let me help you,” he says as he’s walking over to lend Keith a hand. 

It’s quite possibly the longest chain of fairy lights Shiro has ever seen. Judging from its state, it was hastily thrown into its box after last year’s Christmas. So untangling takes a while. 

The radio is still playing Christmas songs in the background and they mix with Krolia’s cooking noises. One or two times, Kosmo chimes in, barking happily as if he wanted to sing along. For the first time that day, Shiro actually feels the Christmas spirit. 

Of all the chaotic moments this morning has brought until now, this is by far his favorite. 

“Mom is right, you know? You are pretty good with dogs,” Keith says, once around half of the string is detangled. It’s definitely too casual for the way his words flood Shiro with warmth. It starts in his chest and runs through his veins, making his fingertips tingle. 

“You think so?” Shiro can feel how his lips tug upwards. Hearing these words from Keith makes Shiro feel some kind of pride.  
  
“Yeah. Definitely. The dogs love you. Atlas loves you. If you’re still looking for a job, I mean…” Again, Keith’s eyes fall to the side, trying to avoid eye contact with Shiro. He grabs one end of the fairy lights and turns around, starting to wind it around the tree.  
  
“Thank you, Ke–....” Shiro never finishes his sentence. 

Because it’s that second that Kosmo trods next to him and snaps the fairy lights from Shiro’s hands, running away. The force of Kosmo’s pull makes Keith stumble towards Shiro, the string of lights still in his hands. 

Shiro raises one arm to support Keith’s weight against his side. It’s a nice feeling, he has to admit. 

“Kosmo, no!” Keith yells, but his words don’t stop his dog.

Keith bends right, stepping past Shiro as he chases Kosmo. It’s no use, the second he reaches for Kosmo, the dog steps to the side, running past Shiro’s left. He stops in front of Shiro, barking one single “woof” while the string of fairy lights is still in his snout. 

Keith chases after him, circling Shiro just the way Kosmo did. 

It’s just a moment too late, since Kosmo is faster, outsmarting Keith as he circles back to the spot behind Shiro. The happy barking and the way Kosmo wags his tail tell Shiro enough: Kosmo thinks they are playing a game.  
  
There’s a pull against Shiro’s leg. Too late he realizes it’s the force of fairy lights winding around his body. 

And it all happens too quickly. One second Keith faces him, and the next he stumbles forward, trying to run after his dog. Shiro opens his arms, ready to catch him. His hands wrap around Keith’s biceps, steading him. 

Keith looks up at him, completely baffled. 

“I’m sorry, I–” he says, but stops in his tracks. Because a forceful tug around their legs presses them closer to each other. 

It’s only now that they realize: Kosmo has managed to completely tangle them up in the string of fairy lights, pressing their bodies together. 

“Bad dog,” Keith curses. His attempt to straighten himself ends in both of the stumbling, trying to regain their balance. They find it when Keith presses his hand against Shiro’s chest and Shiro curls his fingers around Keith’s hip, steadying him. His hands fit perfectly where they rest against Keith. It’s a nice feeling, Shiro thinks. 

“Shiro, I..” As Keith stammers, Shiro spots an adorable shade of pink around his nose. 

“You okay?” he asks, using both of his hands to curl Keith closer to him. Mostly because he can’t have enough of the feeling of Keith’s hip in his hand. Keith takes the opportunity to rest his other hand against Shiro’s chest. Where he touches him, Shiro’s pulse quickens. His heart’s hammering in his ribcage – and he’s sure Keith must be able to feel it, too. 

“Yeah, you?” Keith looks up at him, his cheeks still pink and his eyes wide. The way a shy smile plays around the corner of his lips causes Shiro to draw him even closer. Keith’s body is warm against his. Soft. His fingers move on their own, drawing small circles against the fabric of Keith’s shirt. He can feel Keith lean into the touch a bit, and his heart _sings_. 

“Yeah,” Shiro says, a bit breathless. He wants to say more. And then again not. Because this moment is just too nice to ruin it. 

Shiro wants to savor every second. 

Wants to savor the feeling of Keith in his arms. Something he’s only ever felt in his dreams, something he spent ten years thinking he would never have. But here they are. 

Shiro feels something soft nudge against his leg, making him look down. It’s Atlas standing next to him, looking at him – just as if she was expecting something. And with a chuckle Shiro realizes how he’s completely forgot about the dogs. 

The dogs who caused this whole situation. 

“What is it, Atlas?” he asks, but his dog doesn’t answer. Instead, Atlas keeps staring. But not at Shiro. And not at Keith. 

It takes a second for Shiro to realize Atlas’s eyes are fixed on a spot above their head.

Keith seems to notice Atlas's gaze, too, because he lifts his head at the same time Shiro does. 

They spot the mistletoe above their heads at once. 

“Oh,” Shiro says.

And “oh,” Keith responds. 

“Are our dogs… playing matchmakers?” Shiro chuckles at the idea.

And Keith’s soft laugh is clear in his ear, too catchy for Shiro not to join. _Seems as if even their dogs are sick of their pining_ , a tiny voice in Shiro’s head whispers. 

And Keith looks at him, his surprise turning into something warm, inviting. Shiro could get lost in his beautiful eyes, in his sharp features and the way his hair falls into his eyes just right. 

Shiro’s hand finds Keith’s cheek like it belongs there, his thumb grazing over Keith’s skin. Keith leans into his touch and if it causes Shiro to only curl his fingers closer around Keith’s hip and pull him as close as possible, neither of them minds. 

“I..” Shiro starts, but the words never get across his lips. He’s thought about the right words a thousand times. There are a million things he wants to tell Keith, but none of the words in his head barely scratch the surface of his feelings for Keith. 

Right here, right now.  
  
Nothing comes close to the love he feels for Keith.

“Yeah. Me too,” Keith says. The words are quiet, barely there. But they are there.

“Keith.” The name falls from his lips like it’s the easiest thing.

Because it is.

Because Keith rises to his tiptoes and meets Shiro’s lips in a kiss. 

Shiro’s heart sings as he bends into their kiss. Kissing Keith feels exactly like Shiro’s always imagined. 

Shiro’s pulse is rushing in his ears, caused by the excitement that is kissing Keith for the first time. It’s a little too wet and the angle is a bit off, but Shiro couldn't care less. He’s savouring the way Keith’s lips feel against his. Where his fingertips graze over Keith’s cheek, he tries memorizing every inch of Keith’s skin, tries holding on to the moment. 

He knows this moment can’t possibly last forever, but Shiro tries, cradling Keith a bit closer, leaning a bit more into Keith’s space. There’s a chill running down his spine when Keith does not shy away but tries chasing Shiro’s warmth as well.

Judging from his actions, Keith wants this. Keith actually wants this here. Him. Kissing. 

It’s nearly too good to be true, Shiro finds. The idea makes him sigh into their kiss. 

For ten years he hasn’t once thought it would be possible to have this. To have Keith. 

But here they are. Blushing bright red when they part for air. Big smiles on their lips.

And Kosmo barking happily from where he’s resting on the sofa. 

When he sees Kosmo lie on the sofa like this, Shiro notices the pull on the fairy lights has ceased. He wiggles his hips a bit, letting the string of lights slide down their legs. There’s enough room for both of them to move freely now. It makes Shiro miss the excuse to be close to Keith immediately.

“Don’t think I forgive you that easily,” Keith glares over Shiro’s shoulder, pointing his finger at the dog. He doesn’t look frightening at all with the red shimmer on his face and his lips puffy from kissing. Kosmo must think so too, because he leans his head to the side, looking way too innocent.

“Keith, I...” Shiro starts, but gets interrupted when they hear Krolia, both turning their heads towards the voice coming from the kitchen. 

“Keith, can you lead the dogs back into the… Oh.” Krolia appears in the doorway, a bowl filled with bread rolls in her hands. “Am I interrupting something?” 

“No, I’m... I’m coming.” Keith’s face is glowing as he steps to the side and over the fairy lights, careful not to crush them. The second Keith steps out of his embrace, Shiro misses the feeling of Keith’s warmth against his fingers. 

Shiro wants to complain, but Keith turns towards him again, hesitating for a second before he presses his lips against Shiro’s cheek. 

And Shiro did not know how nice kisses on the cheek could feel. And how they could make his stomach explode in a flutter and set his face on fire. 

“Stay where you are. I’m coming back,” Keith says before he follows his mother. 

Leaving Shiro behind, who starts wrapping the fairy lights around the Christmas tree with burning cheeks and a hammering heart. 

*  
  
Shiro finds it scandalous that Keith, in fact, does not come back anytime soon. 

The shelter dogs outside keep Keith quite busy, which leaves Shiro alone decorating the Christmas tree with the fairy lights and some makeshift ornaments as Atlas and Kosmo are watching. He doesn’t see Keith again before he sets the last box of Christmas decorations to the side, careful to put it out of the dogs’ reach. 

“Can you give me a hand?” When Keith appears in the doorway again, it’s with his arms full of plates. Instead of setting the table, Shiro wishes for a moment to breathe, if only to feel Keith’s warm hands in his or Keith’s lips on his cheeks again. (Or on his lips, he would not mind either). 

But the moment never comes. 

Because the doorbell rings. 

When Keith’s uncles arrive, there are a lot of hugs exchanged. And there’s a big grin on Krolia’s face when Antok greets Shiro with a firm shake of hand. Keith, on the other hand, is sending Antok a death glare and it’s enough for Shiro to wish for the ground to swallow him here and now. But when Keith leads Shiro into the living room, his hand pressed against the small of Shiro’s back, and Shiro forgets everything in an instant. 

Because _‘oh!’_ that’s a very nice feeling. 

The smug grin remains on Krolia’s lips, but Shiro doesn’t care. Doesn’t care at all, because Keith is sitting next to him and it gives him the perfect excuse to sneak his hand onto Keith’s thigh. And Shiro tries to stay as calm as humanly possible when he’s wrapping his fingers around the thigh of the person he’s been in love with for half his life. It gets even harder when he feels Keith’s hands sneak around his, squeezing lightly before interlacing their fingers under the table. 

“Hey, Shiro, want to tell the others about you and Antok?” Krolia pulls Shiro from his thoughts. The way her eyebrow scoots upwards tells him she knows exactly what’s happening under her nice table cloth. 

At the other end of the table, Antok chokes on his coffee and the whole table erupts into laughter.

It’s nice, lovely even how they sit together and exchange stories about the shelter dogs and crazy customers. Krolia’s two brothers Antok and Kolvian took over the family’s blacksmith business with their partners, forging ironware in the nearest big city. They used to do knives and actual swords, hence the name _‘Blades of Marmora’_. 

“But nowadays it’s mostly jack knives and wedding bands. Oh and sometimes dog tags,” Kolivan explains between sips of his coffee mug. 

Since they were hardly in town, Shiro had only met Keith’s uncles on a few occasions before he moved away. All of them were huge and ripped from their ironwork, very intimidating to a fifteen year old Shiro. Now, the men are still ripped and huge, but marked from life and age, and Shiro’s intimidation has made way for awe and interest in the work of the blacksmiths.

“That’s also how Krolia met Tex,” Antok explains, gesturing with his butter knife in one hand. “He started an internship with Pop, wanting to learn how to do his own dog tags for the wolf dogs his family owned.”

“Tex?”  
  
“Dad,” Keith explains. And oh, that made sense. He’s never heard the story of how Keith’s parents had met. A very naive and very young Shiro had once believed in some rumor in which Krolia was raised by wolves and Tex found her in the woods. But a very young and very naive Shiro had watched way too many Disney movies while growing up – and never thought about asking Krolia. 

Shiro figures sharing his assumption would only cause the others to laugh at him.

“I didn’t know you met your husband in the workshop,” he says instead. 

“Yeah, came in and swept her off her feet with his dogs and his charm,” Antok explains. 

“Well, he had more charm in his little finger than the two of you combined.” Krolia glares at her brothers. There’s something bitter and resigned in her words.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to start a painful topic.” As he speaks, Shiro feels Keith’s hand in his tense. He gives it a light squeeze, drawing slow circles on Keith’s thigh with his thumb. 

“No, no, it’s … been twenty-five years, huh?” Krolia leans back into her chair, her hands clasping around her mug. 

“Since his death, you’ve been working non-stop for the shelter, sis,” Kolivan says. it brings a smile to Krolia’s face.  
  
“You know I love the dogs.”  
  
“They are right, Mom,” Keith adds. Shiro can feel the grip around his hand tighten. “You deserve some time off.” 

“Yeah, let the lovebirds handle this.” 

Shiro’s cheeks are burning. A sideways glance tells him Keith is not better off – his face is bright red as he stammers, “We’re not lovebirds.” 

The reaction of Keith’s family is… interesting to say at least. 

While Krolia sighs dramatically, shaking her head against her fingers, Kolivan squints his eyes at the two of them. 

And Antok chokes on his coffee. Again.

“Keith,” he says, clearing his throat before he continues. “You’ve been trying to tell me that lie for the past 15 years.”

“I...” Keith’s starts. Shiro feels his palms start to dampen, Keith’s nails scraping against his skin.

Coming to Keith’s rescue, Shiro chimes in. “We’re friends.”

There’s something unsettling in the way Antok clears his throat again. Kolivan rolls his eyes before he turns back to his sister. 

“So Krolia, have you thought about naming the place _‘Barks_ of Marmora’?”  
  
“I already told you that’s a stupid idea.” It’s Krolia’s turn to roll her eyes at her brother.

Shiro is happy about the way Kolivan barks out a laugh. It manages to lead the topic into a completely different direction.

He doesn’t want to put a label on the thing between Keith and him, not when they haven’t had time to talk about it yet. 

So he decides to laugh along with the others when Krolia tells the story of Coran the barking Beagle and _why she definitely does not want to name the shelter Barks of Mamora, thank you very much._

*

Time flies when you’re sitting together, drinking coffee and eating Krolia’s homemade cinnamon rolls, Shiro finds. Because in between stories and laughter early noon turns into afternoon without him noticing. But when Antok and Kolivan decide to leave for the day, Shiro blinks at the clock and has no idea where the past three hours went.

When his last cup of coffee is empty and Shiro has no further excuse to stay any longer, he signals Atlas to follow him as he makes his way to the door. Keith comes after him, carrying the plate with leftovers while Shiro slips into his coat.

“You sure I shouldn’t stay to help you with the dishes? There is a lot!” Shiro says, looping his scarf around his neck. 

Keith just shakes his head. “You’ve already done too much. And your stew won’t cook itself.” 

“So, uhm. See you?” Shiro hopes his voice doesn’t betray how hopeful he is. He doesn’t want to leave Keith like this, not when there are so many unspoken words between them. But it’s not the right place and time to talk about his feelings when they are supposed to do the dishes for Krolia. So he leaves Keith an opening. 

Altas nudges against Keith’s side and Keith bends down, patting her head good-bye before he turns back to Shiro.

“I’ll... come by later, okay? I still have a Christmas present for you.” Keith looks up at him with a smile on his lips. The thought of Keith joining him and Atlas for dinner makes Shiro’s heart jump. He wants to say so, wants to take Keith with him here and now. 

Shiro’s fingertips buzz at the idea of finally being alone with Keith. Uninterrupted.

But Krolia seems to have a sixth sense for interrupting them in the most important moments.  
  
“Hey Kit,” Krolia’s voice comes from where she’s leaning in the doorframe to the kitchen. “There’s another mistletoe.”  
  
Her words cause them both to look up.

And there, hanging above their heads, is another mistletoe.

When Shiro looks down again, his gaze meets Keith’s.

Keith’s eyes are wide and beautiful as he looks up at Shiro. It would be easy to lean down and kiss the soft lips. And now that Shiro knows he’s allowed to, it’s too inviting not to kiss him.

So Shiro bends down, placing his lips on Keith’s cheek.  
  
“Merry Christmas Keith,” he whispers against Keith’s skin.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Shiro.” 

*

Atlas doesn’t like Christmas carols.

Shiro finds it out the hard way when he starts a playlist for cooking and sways his hips along to ‘ _All I Want for Christmas_ ’ while he’s chopping onions. Atlas immediately leaves the kitchen and curls into a croissant in her dog bed in the living room, not coming back before Shiro switches to something more quiet and calm. 

She doesn’t know what she’s missing, Shiro thinks. 

In his memory, Christmas Day consisted of his grandma spending the day in the kitchen and cooking with Christmas songs playing in the background while his grandpa went out to chop some wood before falling asleep in his wingback-chair close to the fireside. Shiro remembers sneaking into the kitchen to steal some freshly baked cookies. He was always caught by his grandma who then proceeded to make him cut carrots.  
  
Shiro loved the calm Christmas holidays with his grandparents. 

Once he finishes cutting the vegetables, Shiro sears the beef shin he bought at the town’s butcher especially for the occasion. It’s at this moment that Atlas decides to trod into the kitchen again, sitting down next to Shiro. She watches his every step, her eyes never leaving the meat in Shiro’s hands.  
  
“That’s not for you,” Shiro laughs as he seasons the meat in his pot. Atlas doesn’t need to know Shiro already set aside some unseasoned meat before, planning on cooking and preparing it for Atlas instead of her usual dry food. 

He’s set aside enough meat for two dogs, though. Because a hopeful voice in his head remembers Keith’s promise to come over, probably bringing Kosmo with him. And he can’t just feed Atlas while Kosmo gets nothing.

As much as he tries to calm his heart as he alternates between singing along to Christmas songs and following his grandma’s recipe, Shiro’s thoughts circle back to Keith. Always back to Keith.

To the way Keith’s body felt against his chest, warm and firm.  
  
To the way Keith’s fingers felt curled around his, strong and protective.

To the way Keith’s lips felt against his, soft and hot.

They kissed. Shiro still can’t quite believe it. 

His lips still tingle from the feeling of Keith’s pressing against them. The warm softness, combined with Keith’s fingers curling against his chest. Keith’s hips fit so perfectly into his hands, snug and comfortable, as if they were begging to be pulled closer.

Keith looked at him, bright and hopeful. His smile insecure but kind, surprise in his eyes. 

And Shiro can’t shake the thought that Keith actually wanted this. Wanted to melt into his kiss. There’s no other explanation for the way they held hands underneath the kitchen table or Keith pressing his hand against the small of Shiro’s back. Or the way their hands brushed together before they were so close to kissing in the snow just a day before. Or the one time they nearly kissed back in autumn – before Krolia’s call interrupted them. 

All the simple little things Keith did for him, all the ways Keith smiled at him or the way he sought Shiro’s closeness.  
  
Shiro has long since surrendered to his feelings for Keith. But that Keith could feel the same for him... that’s an incredibly beautiful thought. One that warms Shiro’s heart as he turns the heat of the stove down and covers the stew with a lid. 

There’s still no message from Keith as the stew is coming along nicely. Shiro lets it simmer on the stove as he makes himself some hot chocolate. As the milk warms on his stove, Shiro sets the dinner table for two, taking out the nice napkins and good tableware. The one his grandma left him. Even the wine glasses make it onto the table and Shiro pulls out a candelabra. 

Everything about his set up screams romantic candlelit dinner. And the thought causes Shiro’s heart to quicken.

As soon as the hot cocoa is ready and the table is set, warm blankets and Atlas are waiting for him on the sofa in front of the fireplace. So Shiro sits down next to his drowsy dog and snuggles under the covers.

Outside, it has started snowing again, and Shiro smiles, watching how the snowflakes cover his garden. There’s steaming hot chocolate in his metal hand while his other hand is buried in Atlas’s fur, rubbing her belly as she smacks her lips in her sleep. Probably dreaming of food. 

It’s serene. 

And as Shiro watches the snow fall and leans closer into Atlas’s warm fur, he finds there’s only one thing that could make all of this better. 

That thing is the sound of the doorbell ringing. 

Atlas barks when it finally rings. 

Keith beams at him with his nose red from the cold from outside the door, huffing puffs of air to warm his bare hands.

And Shiro’s heart leaps. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says, a bit breathless, a bit too beautiful. He only wears a thermal vest over his flannel shirt – green and red checkered, just for the occasion – and a big scarf wrapped around his neck.There are white snowflakes in his black hair and on his nose. 

And Shiro just wants to lay a kiss to his lips. 

But Kosmo nudges against his side, prodding Shiro to make room so he can wiggle into the house. It’s cold and wet outside and the first thing Kosmo does once he’s inside is shake his whole body, sending drops of water flying everywhere. It earns him a low growl from Atlas who looks up from where she’s still curled on the couch - and a deep sigh from Keith. The “Kosmo, no,” on Keith’s lips sounds a bit too desperate for an actual command. 

Shiro just shakes his head.

“Just in time, I haven’t eaten yet.” He takes Keith’s vest and scarf and hangs them on the coat stand. The way the scarf dangles from one of the hooks reminds him of Atlas’s earlier resentment towards the stand and it makes Shiro smile.

They’ve come a long way. 

“Your dinner's ready.” Shiro bows towards Keith, who chuckles at his gesture. 

“Good thing. I didn’t think washing dishes could make me so hungry,” Keith says. It’s followed by a tiny, _‘oh’,_ as Shiro steps next to him and leads him towards the dinner table in the living room by placing his hand against the small of Keith’s back. He’s perfectly mimicking Keith’s earlier gesture – and the way Keith’s nose turns slightly pink unleashes butterflies in Shiro’s stomach. 

He wants to take care of Keith, just as Keith takes care of him.

“Wait here, I’ll get the wine.” As Shiro draws back a chair for him, offering him a seat, Keith smiles. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” Keith’s smile turns into a soft chuckle. 

Shiro doesn’t answer. Instead, he presses a kiss to Keith’s temple, before he goes to fetch the wine. 

His pulse is still rushing when Shiro steps into the kitchen and it hits him what he just did. He doesn’t know when kissing Keith became as easy as breathing – but it felt just right to press his kiss against Keith’s forehead. 

So it’s with a hammering heart that he looks for a bottle of wine. His grandfather had left Shiro with his incredible wine collection – and who was Shiro to not use one of the good wines for Christmas?  
  
He returns to Keith and fills both their glasses – making sure to fill Keith’s glass first and leaves again to fetch their food.

“This looks amazing,” Keith says once the bowl of stew is set in front of him. He inhales the smell and his eyes widen. It’s a cute sight, filling Shiro with pride. He has to stop himself from saying something cheesy like, ‘I would cook for you every day for the rest of my life’. 

“To us,” he says instead, raising his glass towards Keith. “To us,” Keith replies, and clinks their glasses.

Dinner is a quiet affair. 

As Keith sighs into the first bite of stew and praises Shiro for his cooking, Atlas and Kosmo curl themselves up in front of the fireplace. Their steady snoring blends into the Christmas music still playing in the background. 

“By the way,” Keith says between two bites. “Antok is thinking about taking in one of the puppies. He doesn’t want to admit it, but he lost his heart to Black.” 

Shiro shrugs, a smile on his lips. “Who can blame him? Black is turning lots of heads.” He takes a sip of his wine – and tries his best not to choke on it, when he feels something nudging against his foot. Both of the dogs are sound asleep, so it has to be Keith’s foot that’s softly nudging his foot and carefully letting it rub against Shiro’s ankle. 

Are they playing footsies?

“I can totally see your Mom trying to talk him into adopting the dachshund,” Shiro says as he tries to stay calm and _breathe_ , not letting it show how Keith’s toes against his sock drives him crazy. 

Keith bursts out a laugh. “I really want to see that.” He doesn’t seem to notice Shiro’s disarray. Or he does, enjoying Shiro’s internal struggle as he adds his second foot. 

Once his initial surprise has faded, Shiro decides to return the gesture, softly nudging his foot against Keith’s. “He just has to talk to his husband. But I –” Keith stops mid-sentence, his lips curling upwards as he continues. “I bet once Regris meets Black they won’t be able to say no.” 

Shiro answers with a smile. 

Had someone told him last January he’d spend Christmas dinner playing footsies with Keith while their dogs were snoring, he would have laughed about how utterly ridiculous that sounds. But here he is. And he’s loving every moment. 

How amazing it would be, to spend all of his future Christmases like this. Just the two of them and their dogs. And cheesy Christmas songs and snow.

He wants this so badly. And he’s the only one keeping himself from this dream. 

Keith is here, for him, looking at him with pink cheeks and the softest smile. There’s nothing stopping him. He just has to be brave. 

So Shiro decides to _be_ brave. 

He places his hand on the table, a silent offering that Keith accepts without blinking. 

Keith's hand in his is warm, delicate, a bit rough around his fingertips. 

“Hey,” Shiro whispers. Keith’s fingers curl around his hand, squeezing lightly as Keith answers an equally soft, “Hi.” 

_‘I love you, I need you, you’re the best thing in my life.’_ Shiro wants to say so many things. but none of the words in his head are enough, nothing comes close to the desire in his every cell to be close to Keith. 

So what he says instead is, “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Keith answers and his expression turns soft, dreamy even. 

His thumb starts to draw small circles onto the back of Shiro’s hand as his other fingers move carefully. Shiro feels like he’s watching in slow motion as their fingers move simultaneously, gliding into the open spaces and linking into each other. They press against each other at the same time, as if to make sure this here is actually real.

And maybe, Shiro thinks, the silence they share is just the right amount of enough. 

Keith’s fingers squeeze against his once again before he draws his hand back. Shiro misses it in an instant. 

“Speaking of Christmas,” Keith starts and stands up. The sound of his chair scraping against the floor makes Atlas and Kosmo look up. 

“I still have something for you,” Keith explains and Shiro blinks. The way Keith looks to the side, trying to avoid Shiro’s face makes his heart beat faster. A present? Shiro’s mind runs wild as Keith leaves for a few seconds.

He comes back from the coat stand, a box in his hand. It’s a tiny box, maybe jewelry sized, wrapped in red wrapping paper. 

“It’s not exactly for you, but…,” Keith stops himself, his hand running through his hair. “Just open it.” His disarray is cute, Shiro thinks as he takes the box in his hand and takes off the wrapping paper.  
  
Shiro was right, it is a jewelry box. He’s not sure if he’s breathing when he opens it and his mind decides to come up with every possible content. Shiro’s not a necklace person, he doesn’t wear earrings and, even though the idea of wearing Keith’s ring is too good to be true, Shiro knows that they are not on that level. Yet. And Keith isn’t someone to randomly give rings without them meaning something. 

And Shiro is right. It’s not a ring.

In the box sits a round disk of shimmering silver. The word ‘Atlas’ is engraved on it, and underneath it are a couple of orbs. They look like tiny stars.

It’s a dog ID tag. And it’s beautiful.

“Keith.” The name falls from Shiro’s lips as he turns the ID tag in his hands. The backside has Shiro’s phone number and address in neat letters. 

“I asked Kolivan to make this. Figured you’d like to have a more personal one.” Keith’s voice sounds insecure, inquisitive. There is no need for him to worry, though. 

Shiro loves everything about the ID tag. 

“It’s perfect. Thank you.” Shiro smiles and walks over to Atlas.

“Hey girl, Keith got something really nice for you,” he says as he attaches the ID tag to the collar around Atlas’s neck. Atlas beams proudly as she sits still in front of Shiro, presenting the new tag. 

It sits perfectly against the white fur underneath her chin. Like it belongs there. 

“She seems to like it,” Keith says as he steps next to Shiro. 

He’s close now, just enough Shiro can smell the faint lavender scent again. As Shiro turns towards him, Keith is bathed in the glow of the firelight, the soft lights reflecting on the features of his face. 

He’s handsome. Beautiful.

Shiro still hasn’t forgiven himself for leaving Keith for ten years. He knows he’ll be there one day, it’s a process. He’s doing his best.  
  
And he knows that Keith would have every right to be angry at him, to never want to talk to Shiro again. But Keith is _here_ . With him.  
  
Keith… amazing, selfless Keith. Even after all these years, he’s still looking at him like Shiro’s hung the moon. 

And for the second time that evening, Shiro decides to be brave. 

“Come here,” Shiro says, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist and pulling him closer.

He feels Keith shuffle closer. He seems not to know what to do with his hands and ends up resting them against Shiro’s upper arms. There’s a tiny sound as Keith buries his face in the crook of Shiro’s neck. 

“Thank you, Keith,” Shiro whispers into Keithäs hair, shuffling him even closer as one of his hands finds the space between Keith’s shoulder blades. 

Keith is warm against him, melting into his touch and Shiro is not sure if it’s his own heart or Keith’s that he can feel hammering between their chests. 

And maybe it’s both.

“Thank you for everything,” Shiro says as he begins to sway a bit. The soft melody in the background has fittingly shifted to something calm and quiet, perfect to sway to. 

As Keith starts to sway in tune with him in his arms, Shiro can feel him softly exhale against Shiro’s chest. His shoulders go soft in their embrace, just as if a lot of tension has just fallen off. Shiro loves the trust Keith puts into him. 

“Not just for the gift. For being there for me, even after…” Shiro swallows. “Even after everything.” 

“Are you happy you’re back?” Keith says against his chest, soft and quiet. 

Shiro nods. It gives him the perfect excuse to bury his face further into Keith’s hair, smelling the lavender scent he’s come to associate with Keith.  
  
“A year ago this all seemed like a dream,” he says. 

“It’s been quite a year, hasn’t it?” Keith’s chuckles and it rumbles against Shiro’s chest.

So much has happened in the span of the past months. 

A year ago, Shiro was in another town and in a relationship that was about to shatter into pieces.

But then everything happened way too fast. And suddenly Shiro had a dog and Keith was back in his life and the people in this town started to become friends and family. 

And Keith kissed him under a mistletoe and held his hand. And now he’s here, in Shiro’s arms.

And now he’s here.

“Yeah,” Shiro whispers into the space between them as he shifts. It brings them far enough apart that Keith can look up at him, with eyes soft and beautiful. 

With something inherently Keith.

So Shiro bends down to kiss Keith. 

And when Keith kisses back, his heart sings. 

To be fair, the last time Shiro felt Keith’s lips on his was hardly half a day ago and still... and still he’s missed the warmth against his mouth. Missed the way Keith’s lips curl carefully around his. The way Keith tastes, and smells like lavender.

Keith’s teeth dig into his bottom lip and a soft moan leaves Shiro’s mouth. Kissing Keith is everything he’s ever dreamed of. And more.

Because Keith’s initial shyness bleeds into something bolder, something more enthusiastic, making Shiro chase after him again and again. 

One kiss turns into two, turns into many. Soft presses of lips turn into something more heated, more desperate. 

They part for air, and Keith looks at him with wide eyes and kiss-swollen lips. And Shiro cups both hands around Keith’s cheeks, pulling him into another kiss that takes both their breaths away. 

Keith’s hands sneak around his chest, landing on his shoulder blades, and Shiro can feel how Keith lifts himself on his tiptoes to press even closer into Shiro. And wow. 

_Wow._

Shiro feels his own lips curl into a smile and Keith’s mouth seems to do the same thing. Shiro never thought smiling into a kiss could feel so wholesome.

When they part for air eventually, Shiro can’t help but laugh about the look on Keith’s face. He’s smiling and his eyes are blown wide, his cheeks and lips a beautiful red. As Keith returns his laugh, Shiro bends forward, letting their foreheads touch.

“Do you know how long I’ve been dreaming of this?” Keith asks as he’s looking up into Shiro’s eyes. Keith’s cheeks are soft and warm and Keith’s pulse rushes underneath his fingers, way quicker than normal. Judging from the way his heart jumps in his chest, Shiro’s pulse can’t be that much slower.

“Fifteen years,” Shiro says, without blinking. Like it’s the easiest question in the world. Because, honestly, it is.

Keith looks at him, a bit puzzled, a “Hm?” on his lips.  
  
“That’s how long I knew.” Shiro’s nose finds Keith’s pressing even closer. He feels Keith’s breath against his lips. “Though probably... maybe even the second you fought these bullies with that stick in your hand I thought, _‘Yup, I’m gonna marry him one day.’_ ” 

It feels good.  
  
“Shiro.” Keith smiles way too much for the faked outrage in his voice.  
  
“What, it’s true.” The second his words are out, He feels Keith’s lips back on his. This time, Keith kisses him with something more desperate, more heated. His arms wind their way around Shiro’s neck and Shiro takes it as an invitation to pull Keith closer, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist. His hands come to a rest on the small of Keith’s back.

“I love you,” Keith says as they part the next time.

It’s the most beautiful thing Keith has ever said to him.

So Shiro responds. Because the words come to him as easy as breathing. “I love you too.” 

Keith’s eyes widen, his mouth shapes into a soft ‘o’. “No, Shiro, you… don’t understand. I love you. I’m in love with you.”  
  
Shiro only nods. “Yeah, me too. What about, ‘I wanted to kiss you since I was 15,’ did you not understand?” To underline his words, Shiro pulls Keith towards him, kissing his lips. Again. Because now that he’s allowed to, there is nothing keeping him from spending every minute kissing Keith.

Keith’s chuckle interrupts their kiss. “We’ve been stupid.”

“Yeah, complete fools,” Shiro laughs. He breathes, “I love you,” before he chases Keith’s lips again. 

Keith seems just as enthusiastic about kissing Shiro, moaning into the kiss and pulling Shiro’s bottom lip with his teeth. It makes Shiro’s knees go weak and his heart beat in his ears. 

Before his knees can give in, Shiro decides to use their position to sway Keith towards the sofa. They stumbled forward, still kissing in between steps. 

There’s only one problem: The sofa is occupied by a drowsy Kosmo.

Kosmo only grumbles when Keith shoos him off the sofa to make room. 

Shiro mourns the loss of Keith in his arms. Even if he knows it’s just for a moment. 

“Don’t you dare grumble,” he says as Kosmo trods towards the fireplace and lets himself flop down dramatically next to Atlas. “I know you were involved in this.”  
  
As he moves to sit down on the sofa, Shiro raises an eyebrow. “You think so?

”Kosmo knew exactly what he was doing when he wrapped us in Christmas lights. And yesterday in the snow! That nudge was definitely intentional.“ Keith glares at his dog. It’s not as if Kosmo cares. The dog has already closed his eyes.

“Oh. And that one time in fall?” Keith’s words make Shiro think. There were definitely a few times that he remembers Kosmo nudging or pulling them towards each other. He always felt it was just some… Good Boy Kosmo thing. But hearing Keith’s conclusion sheds a new light onto the incidents. 

Keith nods. 

“Yup. I’m guessing every time. This little shit had it all planned out!”  
  
Shiro turns towards Kosmo, a smile on his lips. “Thank you, Kosmo,” he says.

Next to him, Keith groans, pinching the space between his eyes with his fingers. “How are you doing this?” 

“Doing what?” Shiro turns his head to the side. He has no idea what Keith means. He only knows he’s missing the warmth of Keith against his body.

“You’re not just the.. the most handsome man I’ve ever met and my best friend. How dare you be good with my dog?!” Keith’s words warm his chest, making his fingers tingle with want. Until Shiro remembers that he doesn’t have to hold back anymore. 

He opens his arms, inviting Keith towards him.

“Come here,” he says, a warm smile on his lips. He feels like he can’t stop smiling, now that he’s allowed to call Keith his. 

And, frankly, Shiro doesn’t have to tell Keith twice. Because Keith comes willingly, and sits down on Shiro’s lap so his knees frame Shiro’s legs and his arms wrap around Shiro’s neck. 

He looks pretty kissable, the way he looks down on Shiro, his mouth still a bit swollen from their previous kisses.

“Please know that I won’t stop kissing you for... a long time,” Keith says as he settles into Shiro’s lap and sinks down so their foreheads touch.  
  
Shiro beams at him. “I’ve been waiting fifteen years. There’s a lot of catching up to do.”

“Is that a promise?” 

It is, Shiro thinks, as he lifts his head to capture Keith’s lips with his. 

Because he can’t think of a better way to spend Christmas.

Outside, the snow is falling gently as Keith presses closer against. 

Kosmo and Altas are lying in front of the fire, deep asleep and probably dreaming of bellyrubs. They look comfortable, content.

He breaks their kiss to find Keith’s looking at him with the warmest smile.  
  
And, yes, Shiro thinks, this is exactly what coming home feels like.  
  
*


	5. Another Spring

*

When spring sweeps into town again, it brings not only warmer temperatures and fruit trees in full bloom – it also brings a case of spring fever. Specifically to Shiro and Keith. 

Shiro might have thought falling in love with Keith was easy. 

But loving Keith is even better. 

It’s not that their relationship changes fundamentally. They still go for long walks and spend hours talking and enjoying each other’s presence. But now Shiro has the okay to kiss any smile from Keith’s lips. Or whisper soft words into Keith’s temple. Or touch him or hold his hand while they are out with the dogs. 

The newly found intimacy lays a whole new level to their relationship. A deeper level. 

It’s something exciting and fresh, making Shiro’s heart beat faster. whenever he thinks about it. 

In the weeks after Christmas, Shiro finds out a few things. 

First: Keith is not a big fan of PDA. Whenever Shiro tries to lace their hands together when they are walking in town or sitting in The White Lion, a pretty pink blush forms around Keith’s cheeks before he grumbles something close to a curse. In most cases, Keith will still squeeze Shiro’s hand lightly, and give in. And Shiro knows he’s mostly enduring it, because Shiro loves to hold his hand basically anytime, but a tiny part of Keith likes it. Shiro makes sure to not hold his hand too often and keep the soft gestures to the times when they are alone. (Unless Keith looks really, really beautiful and smiles like _that_ , basically forcing Shiro to pull him close and kiss him. Shiro is only a weak man and Keith is... well, Keith. The most handsome man he knows.)

Second: Even when Shiro knows Keith’s heart belongs to him, he will always have to share it with Kosmo. But it’s okay, he thinks. Because Atlas shares the space in his heart with Keith.  
  
Just like Shiro has to share his space on the couch with Kosmo who loves to squeeze in between him and Keith. Especially on the occasions when Shiro wants to sneak his hands onto Keith’s thigh, drawing soft circles before he lets his hand slowly wander up Keith’s thigh.   
  
Or like when Shiro has to share the space in Keith’s bed with Kosmo who was the first to have the right to sleep in there. Shiro has nothing against cuddling, but Keith’s room in Krolia’s house was never made to house anything bigger than a full size bed. It’s already a tight squeeze with Keith and Shiro, having Keith’s back pressed up against Shiro’s chest most times (which Shiro definitely does NOT oppose). But Kosmo has a habit of sleeping right next to Keith. Or in the space between Shiro and Keith. Or sometimes he decides to let his seventy pounds flop down onto Shiro’s legs, making it impossible for Shiro to move in his sleep. 

Needless to say, Shiro prefers when they are staying over at Shiro’s place. Not only does he have a bigger bed, Kosmo and Atlas both have dog beds in Shiro’s bedroom that they stick to whenever Keith is sleeping over.  
  
It’s not only the bigger bed Shiro enjoys. Shiro also learns to treasure the privacy his own house provides. Because having to face the smug grin on Krolia’s lips at the breakfast table when Shiro knows they might have been a bit too _enthusiastic_ the night before is an experience Shiro could have definitely lived without. 

Also, Keith seems to enjoy staying over at Shiro’s place, if only to escape his mother’s fidgeting once in a while. “Your place is quiet,” Keith says one day. “I like quiet.” And who is Shiro to deny Keith something he likes?

Third: Shiro’s name sounds beautiful from Keith’s lips. Anytime. Anyplace. But the most beautiful sound on Earth is the way Shiro’s name falls from Keith’s lips is when Shiro is allowed to lay worship to Keith’s whole body in bed. Or on their sofa. Or in the shower. 

They aren’t picky. 

They tried to take it slow. They really did. But fifteen years of pent up attraction has made them weak to soft touches. And soft touches quickly turned into heated kisses and frenzied makeout sessions. And by New Year, Shiro knew exactly what Keith sounds like when he is close to losing his mind. 

From then on, they gravitated towards each other over and over again, much to the disapproval of their dogs. When Keith shoos them out of the bedroom, Atlas huffs dramatically while Kosmo barks in protest and runs in circles, only stopped by Keith handing both of their dogs a bone which keeps them occupied for the time it takes Keith to make Shiro see stars and curl his toes. 

Their increased dog bone consumption causes Romelle to raise an eyebrow whenever Shiro and Keith are stocking up their dog supplies but she doesn’t say a thing. She doesn’t have to. The big grin on her lips says more than enough. 

It’s not only these three things, Shiro finds. 

There are a million facets to being with Keith, a million new things Shiro discovers about his boyfriend. Like the way his sleep-tousled hair falls into his eyes in the morning while he brushes his teeth. Or the way he does not care if he’s wearing two mismatched socks. Or the way he accidentally slips into Shiro’s underwear when his mom calls him for dinner while they are rather undressed. 

Or the way he presses a kiss to Shiro’s temple and it makes Shiro’s cheeks tingle. 

And Shiro enjoys each and every new aspect he discovers about Keith.

So it’s a good thing Shiro decided to take on Krolia’s offer and start working at the shelter.   
For Shiro, it’s just a good excuse to spend more time with Keith. He enjoys being close to dogs everyday and teaching people how to train their dogs. The same time Krolia and Keith are happy to have someone who enjoys doing mundane paperwork. Keith might have brought a bit of order into the shelter’s office, but that doesn’t stop him from nodding when Shiro offers to take over accounting and filling spreadsheets. 

“But only if you really want to,” Keith said, his words rueful.  
  
“I really want to,” Shiro responded, smiling as he squeezed Keith’s hand. And that settled it. 

Puppy groups, as Shiro realizes, become his favorite. 

They find out about this when Keith arrives on his doorstep one evening, completely drained and muttering, “Damn those puppies," before inhaling a whole pizza and falling asleep on the couch. And Shiro decides to join him in the next group training, for mental and physical support. 

Turns out the new year also brought a lot of new dogs into town - which proved a taxing challenge to Keith’s normal group training. 

Before, Keith had about one puppy in his groups, which made it easy to adjust the level of their sessions to the needs of every participant. But now, with two to four highly energetic puppies, older dogs are easily distracted and Keith’s easily exhausted. 

When Shiro joins Keith for the next group session, he falls in love with the puppies. 

And the puppies fall in love with him. 

It’s only two weeks later that the Marmora Dog Shelter & Training adds a weekly “Puppy Group Training with Shiro” to their schedule. And it’s a big hit. 

It’s only a few weeks later that words spread around town - the demand for dog training rises. They are not exactly sure why at first. But after a couple of sessions, training courses with Shiro see an uprising in participants from the Golden Girls in town asking specifically for Dog Trainer Shiro.

“It must be my incredible charm,” Shiro jokes one day when his course is about to begin and three quarters of the participants are elderly ladies with their West Highland Terriers. 

Keith just rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, or your incredibly good looks,” he says. “You are one of the hottest men in town and the old ladies just want some eye candy.” 

“Don’t hurt my heart like this, Keith,” Shiro nudges him in the side. “Lorelei and I really started to get along quite well.” 

Shiro knows Keith doesn’t oppose Shiro's new found popularity completely. He has seen him try some of the ladies' homemade cookies more than once. And Shiro knows for a fact that Keith loves the jam Gloria gave Shiro the week before.

Keith’s laugh rings in his ears. “Okay, charmer, I gotta go. You ready to make the old ladies swoon?” 

“Always,” Shiro presses a kiss to Keith’s forehead as he hands Keith Atlas’ leash. “Have fun.” 

“Go get them, Tiger,” Keith says before he’s off, escaping to the woods with Atlas and Kosmo while Shiro faces his fanclub.  
  
*

To be fair, it’s usually not only the town’s Golden Girls who visit his courses. 

Shiro is happy when he spots the familiar face of Lance or Allura, and sometimes they are joined by Romelle. 

Lance and Allura had voiced their interest in a puppy before Christmas when Shiro and Keith first talked about them during one of their visits in The White Lion. “Well, we always wanted a dog for the White Lion,” Allura explained, her eyes glowing when Shiro showed her pictures of the pups. “When I was a kid, we always had dogs at home and I want our future kids to grow up with a dog.”

So once Christmas was over, Keith invited them over to meet White and her litter. For Allura, it was love at first sight when Blue came up to her and snuggled into her outstretched hand. For Lance, it was love at first bark when Red waddled over and tried to eat his shoelace, barking at Lance when he tried to save them.

The puppies were absolutely enamored with the two of them, Blue demanding bellyrubs from Allura two seconds into their cuddle session and Red trying to play with Lance’s scarf. 

“I love them both,” Allura sighed, burying her fingers in the soft fur on Blue’s belly. And Lance picked up Red and looked the Collie pup in the eyes, mustering it with a stern face, before he said. “Well, we don’t have to choose.”

And so Blue and Red found a new home with Allura and Lance. 

“Do you have someone to take care of them when you’re both working?” Keith asked while Shiro prepared the dog’s papers. 

“We’ll take turns until they are ready to stay in the café with us,” Lance explained.  
  
“And Lance’s family is big. And they love dogs. Lance’s sister has already.. uhm.. aggressively volunteered to dog sit,” Allura added.

“Volunteered? I swear, it was more of a threat! ‘If you don’t let me dog sit, I’ll make you pay for it,’ is what Veronica said.” Lance buried his face in his hands dramatically as he tried his best to mimic his sister. 

“Well, I’m looking forward to visiting Red and Blue at The White Lion,” Keith said, handing the papers to the freshly baked dog parents.

And Shiro couldn’t agree more.

Finding someone to take in Yellow was equally easy. 

In the weeks they got to spend with the puppy, it became apparent that Yellow was a laid-back dog and very kind and careful, taking care of his siblings. 

While going through potential dog parents, Keith and Shiro agreed in an instant: The first person coming to their minds to adopt Yellow was Hunk. 

“As much as I wish I could adopt a dog, I can’t,” Hunk said when they asked them over a pizza in his restaurant that evening. He looked every inch as sorry as he sounded. “I can’t bring dog hairs into the kitchen and I’m working long hours. I don’t want to leave a puppy alone for so long, that wouldn’t be fair,” he stammered, fidgeting with a napkin.

“That’s okay, we understand,” Keith said, a soft smile on his lips. 

As chance would have it, Romelle happened to be in the restaurant that evening picking up an order on her way back home. ‘The pet shop is just a few houses over and I love Hunk’s pizza,’ she had said before when Shiro had met her in front of the store.  
  
“Oh, you’re talking about puppies?” Without much ado, Romell grabbed a chair and sat down at the table with the other three. “I’m looking for a new dog to guard the store and keep me company. And the store is not that far away. You could come and pet them whenever you want,” Romelle explained, facing Hunk who eagerly nodded.

And so Yellow found a home at Romelle (and Hunk who would not be caught admitting that he sets aside some meat leftovers for whenever he visits Yellow).

Finding a fitting home for Green and Black proves more difficult. Krolia is as protective of the pups as if they were her own. She doesn’t want to put the puppies on the internet because she wants to know the people she gives them to. But their circle of friends and family is only so big and everyone either already has a dog at home or doesn’t want to adopt one.

Shiro is close to writing a notice for their local newspaper when Keith comes into the office with a big smile on his face and his phone in his hand. 

“Remember my old college friends? Matt and Pidge?” Shiro raises an eyebrow. It was rare to see Keith beaming like this. 

“Pidge just texted me. They want to come visit.” There’s something in his voice that tells Shiro his sentence doesn’t finish there. 

“And…?” Shiro furrows his brow as Keith walks over and sits down. In his lap. 

Shiro’s arm finds Keith’s waist in an instant as Keith continues. “And they said they can’t wait to see the shelter dogs, they would love to adopt one of our dogs.” 

From the way Keith’s wiggles in his lap, Shiro knows Keith is more excited than he wants to give away. And he can’t wait to meet Keith’s friends from college.

From how Keith behaves, Shiro knows exactly what he’s up to.

“Black or Green?” Shiro asks.  
  
“Green. Green is perfect for them both.” And Keith smiles.

So five puppies come down to one. 

Black.

Their first idea, giving Black to Antok, fails. Because, ironically, a series of fortunate events leads to Antok meeting his Dachshund alter ego. Which also leads to Antok falling in love with the dog. And adopting him – without even taking another look at Black. 

By now, Antok the Dachshund is called George. And George lives a happy life, getting pampered by Antok and his partner Regris. They sometimes show up to Keith’s courses and George is dressed in fancy bow-ties or tartan dog coats. And he’s the happiest little Dachshund Shiro has ever seen. 

They find a woman interested in adopting Black. 

It’s one of Krolia’s friends from her Krav Maga classes. She’s nice, lovely even, and everything seems to fit well. A little too well. Because the woman works a cozy office job in another town and can’t work from home. So it’s either training Black to stay alone for a long time from the start, or taking the puppy with her to work. 

Krolia doesn’t like both ideas. 

Still, she invited her friend over to get to know the puppy.

And when Krolia leads her to meet the dogs, Shiro can see Krolia’s eyes light up - the same way Keith’s eyes do sometimes when he has a good idea. And instead of leaving with a cute new puppy, Krolia’s friend leaves with White, who, as Shiro finds out later, turns out to be the perfect office dog. 

“You know what?” Krolia says to Keith and Shiro as they wave her friend goodbye. “It’s been a while since Trixie’s gone. Might as well get a new pup.”  
  
So in the end, Black stays with Krolia.  
  
And while Krolia is head over heels in love with the puppy, somebody else is not that amused by their recent household addition. 

Because Keith and Kosmo are the victims of Krolia’s new-found love, leaving Keith stressed and annoyed whenever he turns up on Shiro’s doorstep. 

Just like this Sunday, when Keith arrives late at Shiro’s place.  
  
As Shiro wraps his arms around Keith, he’s lifting himself to his tiptoes and presses a kiss to Shiro’s lip.

“Hey, you okay?” Shiro says when they part, looking in Keith’s tense face. 

“Yeah, Mom’s just giving me a hard time again,” he says. Shiro tightens his embrace, making Keith press closer against his chest. He can feel Keith’s breathing evening under his hands and he kisses Keith’s hair for good measure. 

“Are you still up for a walk? Or do you want to come in for tea?” Shiro asks. The third option, just standing like this and enjoying Keith’s presence, is his favorite. 

Keith takes one last, deep breath, before he shuffles out Shiro’s arms.  
  
“Let us go,” he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. He whistles for Kosmo to come and Atlas trods along as they make their way to the woods.  
  
Spring paints the woods in shades of green and pink, with trees in full bloom as they make their way through the well-known paths. 

They walk in silence, enjoying each other’s presence. Shiro figures Keith prefers a bit of quiet, so he laces their fingers together and squeezes lightly from time to time. 

Kosmo and Atlas are happy to spend their time exploring the forest, sniffing every other patch of weed or marking trees. Whenever Shiro whistles or calls her name, Atlas comes running back to him – and Shiro is proud to see how much progress they made over the past months. 

Keith seems to notice the same when he squeezes Shiro’s hand the next time Atlas comes back to them and sits down, patiently waiting for Shiro’s next command.

“You know, you can be proud of yourself. You’ve come such a long way with Atlas,” Keith says as he squats down to give Atlas a treat and pat her head. “Ok, good girl,” he adds, sending Atlas off. She happily jumps ahead, ready to catch up with Kosmo. Keith and Shiro follow them, strolling behind their dogs.  
  
Even after all these weeks, Keith’s praise still feels nice. And highly exaggerated. Without Keith he would have grown desperate in the first couple of weeks. If he’s learned one thing from the first months with Altas, it’s that he needs a lot of patience with dogs. He tries his best to pay it forward, preaching patience to the people in his puppy group over and over again. 

‘Patience yields focus,’ he had just told Lance two days ago when Lance was trying hard to make Red sit and look at him for longer than three seconds. ‘It will be worth it.’

It will definitely be worth it, Shiro thinks as his conversation with Lance comes to his mind. Looking at Atlas now makes him realize exactly _how_ much it’s worth.  
  
“Remember how she was afraid of our coat stand?” Keith’s words pull Shiro from his thoughts. 

“I was so devastated!” Shiro says, nodding. The memory of Shiro turning desperate over Atlas with her tail tucked between her legs and growling at the coat stand seems so tiny right now. Though he knows his concern was valid last spring, Keith told him so often enough. 

“And now the only thing she fears is that you might forget to feed her,” Keith laughs, warming Shiro’s chest. He knows Keith is referring to Atlas’s big puppy eyes two days ago when Keith and Shiro had been a bit _occupied_ during Atlas’s usual feeding time. Leaving Atlas begging for food and Shiro, struck by the worst case of remorse, putting some extra dog food in her bowl. 

“No, really,” Keith says, letting his thumb glide over the back of Shiro’s hand as he walks closely. “I’ve seen so many people in my courses who need years to get where you two are. Most will never get there,” he explains.

Shiro lets their shoulders bump together, enjoying the fact that he can do so without holding back. His eyes never leave his dog.

“Maybe it was destiny for me to come back here the exact same time Atlas needed a new home,” Shiro says. 

There’s a light squeeze from Keith’s hand as he speaks. “It was definitely the perfect coincidence.”  
  
“You know, it’s a bit like with you and Kosmo. I feel Atlas saved me in many, many ways.” It’s a thought Shiro’s been keeping in his head for a long time. It feels good to say it out loud. Atlas came into his life just when he needed her, and he will be forever grateful.

Shiro feels Keith’s shoulder nudge against his. 

“And you saved her,” Keith says. There’s a beautiful smile on his lips as Shiro turns towards him. 

“Did I?” 

“Yeah. When we got her, I was afraid we would not find anyone suitable for taking her in. But then you turned up on our doorstep and I knew she was meant to meet you.”  
  
“Keith,” Shiro squeezes Keith’s hand. 

“It will be one year in a few days, huh?” Keith asks. 

And, oh, Shiro realizes as he tries to remember the date. They really are close to their _anniversary_. 

He stops in his tracks before he continues, his eyes wandering back to his dog. As Atlas is trudging forward, he thinks back to the dog Atlas had been when he found her a year ago. A thin body beneath some shaggy fur, not trusting his coat rack. And now she’s healthy and her fur is glowing. And any fear has long gone, making way to a cute curiosity and a fine temper. 

They’ve come a long way. 

And still...

“You know,” Shiro starts, a thought on his lips he’s been keeping in his head for quite some time now. ”Sometimes I wish I would have found her earlier. Now that I have all the puppies in my puppy group, I try to imagine Atlas as a puppy. She must have been the cutest.”

As much as he loves seeing Atlas’s improvement, Shiro can’t help but wonder - what would his life have been like if he found Atlas as a puppy, and watched her grow up? Their bond would have been even better, he assumes. And she wouldn’t have had to go through the horror of being abandoned by her previous owner and living in the shelter. 

The image hurts. Atlas being alone and miserable, howling for her owner… Shiro makes a promise to give Atlas one of her favorite bones when they return. Because she deserves it. 

Keith’s laughter rings in his ears. And it’s enough to kill the gloomy mood.

“If Black has taught me anything, don’t be fooled by their cute looks. Puppies are a lot,” Keith says, shaking his head.

Shiro can only imagine the extra workload Black brings to Krolia and Keith’s lives. 

He offers Keith a sympathetic smile before he continues.

“And Black hasn’t hit puberty yet,” he points out.

And Keith groans.

“I can’t wait for Black to hit puberty.” As Keith speaks, his hand swipes through his hair. 

“Mom is already putting the puppy over me and Kosmo. Kosmo has to stay outside whenever the puppy is sleeping or eating.” He sighs. “I tell you, Kosmo wouldn’t do anything to Black, but Mom is just.. very protective.”

“I can imagine.” Shiro’s hand finds Keith’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. He’s only witnessed a bit of Krolia’s behavior, but it’s enough to give him a picture.

Keith turns his head, looking him in the eyes. And it’s hard not to get lost in his gaze. 

“You can be happy you don’t have to listen to her talk about every little thing Black did the day before when you’re trying to drink your morning coffee.”

Where his hand touches Keith’s shoulder, Shiro can feel the light shrug. It hurts him to see Keith suffering like this. 

“You know...” Shiro says, his metal thumb drawing circles against Keith’s shoulder.

There must be something wrong with his face, because Keith’s gaze turns curious.  
  
“What is it, Shiro?” he says, his body turning towards Shiro. 

And it amuses Shiro how easy the next words are, considering he’s been dreaming of asking Keith since the second they kissed for the first time.  
  
“You could always move in with me? There’s way too much space in the house. And we have a garden for both the dogs?” Shiro’s words are accompanied by a shy laugh. And his hand, which is not resting on Keith’s shoulder, scratches his cheek.

He’s sure Keith will tell him it’s a stupid idea, that he prefers living with his mother. That he loves being close to the shelter dogs and actually hates being confined to a house with Shiro. With sharing towels and falling asleep next to each other every night and waking up to laugh over coffee and groan over something stupid their dogs did and… 

Shiro’s chest suddenly feels a lot warmer when he thinks of everything that living with Keith would include. 

“You.”  
  
Keith’s voice interrupts Shiro’s thoughts. He can see Keith’s eyes widen and his mouth shape into as ‘o’ as his hands stop mid-air. 

“You want me to move in with you?” he says, and it sounds absolutely dumbfounded. Shiro immediately feels sorry for pressuring him into this, so soon after they started dating. His hand leaves Keith’s shoulder as he opens his palms towards Keith in an appeasing gesture. 

“Yes? Please don’t feel pressured, only if you..” Shiro starts. But Keith kisses him. 

And it’s not one of those quick pecks on the lips and not something soft and tender. The kiss is fueled by pleasure and heat, making Shiro moan when Keith’s teeth find his bottom lip. The way Keith licks into his mouth makes Shiro’s heart flutter in his chest and the blood rushes in his ears.

It still does ten minutes later when they make it back to Shiro’s house.

Keith’s mouth is on his again before Shiro can even close the door behind him – causing Shiro to press Keith closer to him with one hand while the other pulls the door handle close. 

They lose their shoes somewhere in the hallway, and Shiro is sure Keith’s puffer vest doesn’t make it into the next floor with them. 

When they’re close to the master bedroom, Keith chuckles against his lips as Shiro carefully opens each button of his flannel with utmost care. And Shiro huffs, groaning something about ‘too many buttons’ as he steps forward, causing Keith to step backwards in the process. 

Shiro hates the fact he has to refrain from kissing Keith for a second, but they have learned to close the bedroom doors with the dogs in the house. 

One awkward moment of Kosmo’s nose against the sole of Shiro’s foot while Shiro’s mouth was busy eliciting moans from Keith was enough to ban both dogs from the bedroom whenever they were _occupied_. 

But as Keith whispers, “Come here,” and looks at him through long lashes, Shiro easily forgets about their dogs in the living room.

There are more important things to do.

Keith, for example.

*

The sunset that day is a really beautiful one, Shiro finds. 

It sneaks through the curtains of the bedroom window and paints Keith’s skin in a beautiful shade of orange as they lie in the afterglow. The floral lace leaves a pattern on Keith’s skin all the way down his exposed back and the curve of his ass. He lies with his head buried in the pillows, facing Shiro, and there is the most beautiful smile on his lips. Content and blissful, with a hint of smugness playing around the corners. 

Shiro can’t help but trace the shapes of flowers on Keith’s skin with his lips, leaving soft kisses where his mouth wanders. 

And Keith squeaks when Shiro’s mouth presses a kiss to one of his butt cheeks. Shiro can feel Keith’s hand against his shoulder, trying to nudge him away in protest as he chuckles into the pillow, but Shiro just smiles as his mouth wanders up Keith’s spine. He trails over the dimples on Keith’s back, kissing them both, before he continues upward. 

One of his hands joins his journey over Keith’s body, his fingers softly circling Keith’s sides.

Shiro’s skin tingles from the idea that he’ll be allowed to spend all of their days like this, with Keith by his side. Enjoying the warmth of his body next to his, the feeling of his skin underneath his fingertips. 

It’s overwhelming.

He wants to tell Keith how much he means to him, how Shiro can’t wait to wake up next to him, to hold him in his arms or simply share a coffee in the morning. 

“I love you,” comes out instead. 

And it feels good as it falls from his lips, whispered against Keith’s skin. 

As Shiro continues worshipping Keith’s body, the idea of them staying together forever sneaks to his mind. A year ago, Shiro wouldn’t have dreamed of it but now, a forever with Keith seems magnificent. 

A ring would surely look lovely against Keith’s pristine skin. 

The idea brings a warmth to Shiro’s cheeks. He’s never been one to dream of a big wedding. But thinking of Kosmo and Atlas as ring dogs makes him smile. Both wearing matching bowties and flowers around their collars, all eyes on them as they trod down the aisle to bring their dog dads the rings. Shiro and Keith would have to pay attention so Kosmo would not eat the flower bouquets. 

Or their rings. 

Shiro chuckles at the idea of Keith cussing at Kosmo for eating their rings in front of all of their friends. 

And Keith must notice how Shiro’s chuckle vibrates against his skin. 

Because he turns his head to look over his shoulder. Shiro can’t help but notice how lovely his face looks like this, framed by his black strand of hair. 

“What is so funny?” Keith asks, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Nothing” As Shiro speaks, he rubs his cheek against the skin of Keith’s back, softly blowing air where his mouth lands. 

He feels Keith shiver underneath him. 

“You’re laughing because of … nothing?” There’s a softness in Keith’s voice as his lips tug upwards. 

“I just… Don’t get me wrong, I know we only started dating, but..” Shiro shuffles backwards, to sit on his knees. Keith’s whole body turns towards him, concern in his eyes. 

“What is it Shiro? You know you can talk to me.” He looks so handsome, so lovely, so… so Keith.

And just like this Shiro knows he can trust Keith with his thoughts.  
  
“I... I thought about how I would love to stay with you forever.” It takes about a millisecond for Keith to sit up and face him. He leans forward on his hands, so close to Shiro’s face now. From up close, Shiro can count the light freckles on his nose. 

“You want to stay with me forever.”  
  
“Yeah. I know it’s too fast and I’m probably too corny, but… Yeah.” Shiro lowers his gaze, only to notice how his fingers fidget with the blankets. They only stop when Keith wraps his fingers around them.  
  
“Shiro.” 

When Keith lifts Shiro’s hand and guides it to his cheek, Shiro’s eyes follow the movement. There’s something calming in the way he’s allowed to cup Keith’s cheek. In the way Keith leans into the touch. 

It feels right.

“I’ve been in love with you for half my life.” Keith’s eyes find his as he bends his face just slightly to kiss Shiro’s palm. “And I know that will never change.” 

“Keith.” Shiro’s voice is merely a whisper. He can feel a lump form in his throat.

Keith’s gaze is intense.

“I.. uhm…” Keith starts. His lips hover over Shiro’s hand and Shiro can feel the heat against his palm. 

When he doesn’t continue, Shiro speaks. “I’m sure your uncles would love to forge rings for us.” 

“Actually…” 

Keith’s cheeks are red as the sunset outside when he averts his eyes. He lowers Shiro#s hand and gives it a light squeeze – before he lets go of it. 

"Don’t freak out, okay?” 

As Keith lifts from the bed and heads toward his pants that lie discarded on the bedroom floor, Shiro can’t help but question his behavior. But he’s soon distracted by the lovely view of Keith’s naked backside, too inviting not to squeeze Keith’s butt when Keith is still in reach. 

“Hey,” Keith makes a noise as he tries to swat Shiro’s hand away. 

That doesn’t really stop Shiro from enjoying the view. 

Keith pulls something from his pants and comes back, flopping down next to Shiro. 

In his outstretched hand lies something that makes Shiro’s heart skip a beat.

A ring. 

It’s a sleek ring, thin and silver adorned with a stripe of black. 

It’s beautiful. 

“I asked them to make a ring for you. I.. wanted to wait, but.. well.. you started the topic and… ” Keith stops himself to actually breathe. “Shiro, would you like to wear my ring?”

“Keith.”  
  
“If you want to wait that’s perfectly fine, don’t feel as if you need to agree. It was a stupid idea, I’m not even on my knees and this should be more romantic…” 

But Keith never gets to finish. Because shuts him up with a kiss. 

When he feels Keith go soft against him and lean into the kiss, Shiro wraps his fingers around Keith’s hand which is holding the ring.

His lips curl upward as they part, and he looks in Keith’s face. Where his fingers touch Keith, he can feel him tremble. And he must be just as nervous as Shiro feels, with his goosebumps and the blood rushing in his ears. 

Shiro’s sure his palms are sweating where they touch Keith’s hands.

Every atom in his body, any particle of his being is filled with love for Keith. 

There’s always been one answer to Keith’s question. And it comes to Shiro as easily as breathing.

“Keith,” he whispers, not able to hide the tremble in his voice as he continues. “Please put it on.” 

And as Keith slips the ring on Shiro’s finger, Shiro gazes up into the most beautiful pair of eyes looking at him softly. Shiro feels so fragile he’s about to burst in a million pieces, just from the love he feels for Keith.

Keith looks mesmerizing. In love.

And absolutely kissable. 

So Shiro leans forward, capturing Keith in a kiss.

It’s soft, tender, a bit careful even, the way their lips move against each other.

“Wow,” Keith breathes as they part, his eyes wide open and his cheeks the most adorable shade of pink. His fingers are still trembling against Shiro’s.

“Yeah, wow,” Shiro answers. There are no words left for him, so he leans forward and cups both of Keith’s cheeks, as he lets their foreheads touch. The smile on his lips feels like it reaches from one ear to another, so happy does he feel.

“There’s only one problem,” Shiro says, once he can tear himself from getting lost in Keith’s beautiful features. “You have to get one, too.” 

Keith’s laugh in his ears sounds like music. The most melodic kind of music. 

And it’s too catching - Shiro can’t help but join him.

So it goes, they alternate between kissing and laughing and whispering, ‘I love you’s’ into each other’s ears and against each other’s lips.

It’s a noise at the bedroom door that makes them part in the end. 

With a groan Keith walks to the door, opening it for two dogs who trod in. Atlas comes first wagging her tail as she beelines for Shiro. Kosmo comes after her. 

With his bowl in his mouth.

“Keith, one might say your dog is utterly spoiled,” Shiro laughs as he pats Atlas’s head. She jumps onto the bed to sit down beside him.

Keith ruffles his hair. “Have you tried saying no to his big puppy eyes?” 

He sighs.

Shiro looks at Atlas. And Atlas looks back at him. 

And it’s just as if both were raising an eyebrow at the same time.

“No, that’s unfair. Stop plotting against me.” Keith lifts his hand, pointing his finger at Shiro and Altas. Shiro just laughs as he stands up.

“Let’s get the dogs some food,” he says as he slips into some jogging pants and a tank top and gestures to the dogs to leave the room.

Keith follows him as he tries to put on a sock while standing on one foot, flailing a bit.

Shiro comes to his rescue, his hands cupping Keith’s shoulders as he holds him in place and presses a kiss to Keith’s lips.

“Love you,” he says.

“Love you, too.” Keith smiles at him. 

And Shiro feels happy. 

Truly, unconditionally happy.

He has Atlas and Kosmo in his life. 

And the prospect to spend forever with Keith.

What could possibly be better?  
  
***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://www.twitter.com/dropsofautumn) ♡


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